


A Marriage of Convenience

by enigmaticblue



Series: Science Husbands [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from two lives, intertwining. Also, what the title says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my dear friend and beta, thomasina75, who said she wanted domestic fluff and loves a good marriage fic. This monster fic is for you. (Also fills the trope_bingo prompt, "forced marriage".)

Bruce feels as though he’s been traveling for years by the time he trudges into the lobby of the remodeled Stark Tower. He suspects that he could have called Tony at any point and cut the trip short, but he’d stubbornly resisted the urge.

 

Bruce had never intended to take Tony up on his offer, but he desperately needs a place to lie low right now, and while there are those who can tie him to Tony, no one outside the Avengers Initiative has any idea how well they hit it off.

 

That’s why Bruce thinks he might be safe here for a while, as long as he hasn’t been followed. He’s pretty sure he shook his tail.

 

He hopes.

 

The receptionist in the lobby looks up with a smile that slips just a bit when she takes in Bruce’s disheveled hair and wrinkled, travel-stained clothing. “Hello, welcome to Stark Industries,” she says, her tone of voice suggesting that she’s falling back on her training, rather than extending any real welcome. “How can I help you today, sir?”

 

“I’m Dr. Bruce Banner,” he replies. “Here to see Tony Stark.”

 

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, her smile becoming a little more forced.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, but he said to drop by any time, and I should tell you to check the list of guests.” He checks her nametag, and lowers his voice. “Please, Allison.”

 

She nods, still looking uncertain, and her fingers fly over the keyboard. Bruce knows exactly when she sees his name, because her eyes widen, and her smile becomes both more genuine and more uncertain, as though she can’t quite believe that someone like Bruce has full access.

 

Allison points down a hallway leading off the lobby. “Take the elevator at the end of the hall. You’ll be asked to identify yourself, and it will take you up to the Penthouse. I’ll let Mr. Stark know you’re coming.”

 

“Thanks,” Bruce replies, heading down the hall, glancing over his shoulder for any pursuers out of reflex. He seems to be alone, and he’s pretty sure he’ll be able to get on the elevator without anyone following him.

 

The doors slide shut and a disembodied voice says, “Please identify yourself.”

 

Bruce hadn’t been at Stark Tower long the last time he was there, but Tony had introduced him to Jarvis then, and he recognizes the voice. “Hello, Jarvis. It’s Bruce Banner.”

 

“Voiceprint confirmed,” Jarvis says. “Welcome back, Dr. Banner.”

 

“Thanks,” he says.

 

There’s a pause, and Jarvis says, “Mr. Stark will meet you in the Penthouse. He says you should make yourself at home.”

 

The elevator doors open, and he steps out into a lounge area that’s familiar, although slightly changed. Bruce suspects that the Other Guy leaving a Loki-shaped dent has something to do with that, and he winces at the reminder.

 

Bruce wanders over to the bar and is grateful when he finds a bottle of water in the fridge. He’s dehydrated, and more than a little hungry, but water will do for now. Maybe he’ll forage for food later.

 

He collapses on the couch, draining the bottle and pulling out a book that he’d found discarded in the airport. Granted, spy novels aren’t his usual thing, but at least Robert Ludlum tells a good tale.

 

Bruce is just finishing up the novel when Tony strides through the doors. “Bruce! You never call, you never write. Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell are you doing here?”

 

“Sorry,” Bruce apologizes automatically. “I’m sorry, I just—”

 

Tony holds up a hand. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to stop by when you were in town. I hope you’re staying for a while.”

 

“I don’t know,” Bruce admits. “I picked up a tail a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to shake them, but they keep finding me. I thought…” He trails off, realizing how that must sound, like he’s using Tony.

 

He _is_ using Tony, and he’s probably put him at risk, but Tony is his last resort, and if he’s not okay with this—

 

“Hey, what’s mine is yours,” Tony assures him, pouring a drink. “And the security here can’t be beat.”

 

Bruce lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. “Thanks.”

 

Tony waves off his gratitude. “Don’t thank me yet. I plan on putting you to work as long as you’re here.”

 

Bruce smiles. “I’m not sure I’d call it work.”

 

“That’s the benefit of working in Candyland,” Tony agrees, sitting down on the couch next to Bruce. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

 

Bruce’s stomach growls. “Apparently hungry.”

 

“I’ll call for something,” Tony says. “Any preferences?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “Anything, just as long as it’s not moving or moldy.”

 

Tony gives him a sharp look. “How long has it been since you’ve had a decent meal?”

 

“Not that long,” Bruce deflects, knowing that an honest answer will just worry Tony.

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “Which means longer than you want to admit. Jarvis, call Lombardi’s and order a couple of pizzas, will you? My usual.”

 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis replies smoothly.

 

Bruce chuckles in weary amazement. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

 

“Stick around long enough and you might,” Tony responds. “You want to see what I’ve been working on?”

 

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Bruce says honestly.

 

And for the first time in weeks, Bruce feels as though he’s safe.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony’s surprised when Jarvis informs him that Bruce is sitting in the Penthouse, but he’s certainly not displeased. To be honest, he’d hoped Bruce would take him up on his invitation, but his happiness at seeing Bruce again is overtaken by worry as soon as he takes in Bruce’s appearance.

 

Bruce is clearly worn and weary, with dark circles under his eyes, his clothes travel stained and wrinkled, and his expression is anxious and uncertain when he catches sight of Tony.

 

Concern causes Tony to be a little harsher than he intends, and Bruce flinches and immediately apologizes.

 

Tony waves him off and immediately goes about feeding and distracting Bruce, although not in that order. He’s already working out how he’s going to discover who’s been following Bruce, and how to keep him safe.

 

And maybe even how to keep Bruce with him.

 

Bruce is cautiously enthusiastic about Tony’s latest efforts with the arc reactor, and Tony chalks up the subdued reaction to his ordeal.

 

“You’ve gotten a lot done in the last few months,” Bruce observes. “It’s impressive.”

 

Tony smiles. “You’ve been paying attention.”

 

Bruce wears a sheepish smile. “Yeah, well. I couldn’t help it.”

 

“Oh?” Tony prods. “Am I really that irresistible?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I’m going to plead the Fifth.”

 

That means yes, and Tony can work with that.

 

Jarvis announces, “The pizza has arrived, sir.”

 

Tony rubs his hands together. “Great. Let’s get you fed.”

 

Bruce falls on the food with ill-disguised desperation, although he chews and swallows deliberately, as though he’s reminded himself that he needs to take it slowly.

 

Tony pours Bruce a couple of fingers of whiskey and puts the glass down in front of him. “Don’t argue,” he orders. “You need to take a load off, Big Guy.”

 

Bruce nods and takes a sip, which surprises Tony. From the little Tony knows, Bruce doesn’t drink—or he doesn’t drink often—and that tells Tony everything he needs to know about Bruce’s state of mind.

 

“You okay?” Tony asks after a minute.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No. Yes. I’m just—tired.”

 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Tony says cheerfully. “Do you have any clean clothes?”

 

“I haven’t had much chance to do laundry lately, Tony,” Bruce says wryly. “So, no.”

 

Tony nods. “Great. I’ll find something for you to wear, and if you put your dirty clothes outside your door, I’ll send them to my cleaners.”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Bruce protests.

 

Tony gives him a look. “Uh, yes, I do. It’s for the good of everyone concerned.”

 

Bruce wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, well, showers have been in short supply lately, too.”

 

“Lucky for you, we have plenty of hot water,” Tony replies. “And soap. And shampoo. Stay as long as you like.”

 

“A couple of days at least,” Bruce replies, rubbing his eyes, and finishing off his drink. “And with that, I think I’m going to turn in, if that’s okay.”

 

Tony nods. “Yeah, you look done in. Sleep as long as you want. You remember where the guest room is, right?”

 

“Sure. Thanks,” Bruce says quietly. “For everything.”

 

Tony shrugs. “You have any idea who’s chasing you?”

 

“Ross, I think,” Bruce admits. “But I didn’t stop to let any of them catch up to find out for sure.”

 

“Sleep well,” Tony replies.

 

Once Bruce is gone, Tony dials up Fury, using the private number that he’s not supposed to have.

 

“Stark, what the hell are you doing?” Fury demands over the videophone.

 

Tony prefers this method of communication, if only because he likes to read others’ expressions as he’s talking to them.

 

“I want to know why I didn’t know that Ross was sending his goons after Bruce,” Tony says.

 

Fury frowns. “I had no idea.”

 

“Bullshit,” Tony snarls. “You’ve been keeping tabs on Bruce since the beginning. You had to know that Ross was chasing him.”

 

“We knew that he might,” Fury admits. “And we’d heard that the general was going to make a move in that direction.”

 

Tony summons his best glare. “And you didn’t try to stop him?”

 

“You might not realize this, but SHIELD is not impervious to politics, no matter how much I wish it might be,” Fury replies testily. “Ross has friends and political capital, and Banner—doesn’t.”

 

“Doesn’t saving Manhattan count for anything?” Tony asks bitterly.

 

Fury shrugs. “I’m on Banner’s side, and if Ross goes after him, I can act, but until then my hands are tied.”

 

“And what if Ross managed to get to him?” Tony demands. “Anything could happen.”

 

“This _is_ the Hulk we’re talking about,” Fury replies. “And Bruce might be happy to draw Ross out.”

 

“ _He_ might be, but I’m not risking him,” Tony shoots back. “What’s it going to take to keep him safe, Fury?”

 

Fury sighs. “The hell if I know.”

 

Tony frowns, an idea occurring to him. “Why isn’t Ross going after Steve?”

 

“Because every network on television has run his photo, and every household in America loves him,” Fury replies wearily. “Ross can’t touch him.”

 

That sparks an idea. “Hm.”

 

“What are you planning?” Fury asks suspiciously.

 

“I don’t know yet,” Tony admits. “But I’m going to keep him safe.”

 

Fury nods. “I’ll do what I can to keep Ross off your backs for a while, at least.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony says, completely sincere, and breaks off the call.

 

He has the glimmer of an idea, a way of catapulting Bruce into the public eye in such a way as to make him untouchable, but it’s going to depend on getting Bruce to agree with said plan—which is probably going to be easier said than done.

 

Tony’s going to need a little time. Thankfully, Ross has given Tony the perfect excuse to keep Bruce with him, at least for as long as it takes to convince Bruce to go along with his idea—which is admittedly crazy.

 

But some of Tony’s best ideas have seemed insane to the rest of the world. Tony’s okay with that, as long as he reaches his end goal.

 

~~~~~

 

When Bruce finally wakes up, he has no idea what time it is. He knows from experience that the Tower has smart windows that won’t let in light until the occupant is awake, so it’s dark in his bedroom.

 

“Jarvis? What time is it?”

 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Banner. It is just past noon, eastern daylight time. You’ve been asleep for eighteen hours. The ambient temperature outside is 75 degrees Fahrenheit,” Jarvis informs him as light floods the room. “Mr. Stark wanted me to tell you that he’s had clothing delivered for you. It’s just outside the door.”

 

Bruce is grateful for the clean clothes—he had been downright itchy with sweat and grime when he’d arrived—but relying on anyone goes against the grain.

 

“Gift horse, Banner,” he mutters to himself and grabs the clothes before heading for the shower.

 

The pants are a little long in the leg, which tells Bruce that he’s wearing Tony’s clothes. Well, that and the fact that the t-shirt has a faded AC/DC logo. Tony hadn’t included socks in the bundle, so Bruce forgoes shoes and heads out to the common room barefoot.

 

Tony’s there already, playing with a holographic model of the arc reactor.

 

“Hey,” Bruce says.

 

Tony glances up with a bright grin. “Hey. Lookin’ good, Big Guy.”

 

Bruce looks down at his t-shirt. “Your doing, I suppose.”

 

“Looks better on you, and I don’t say that lightly,” Tony responds. “By the way, I called Fury to see what he could do about Ross.”

 

Bruce swallows hard. “And?”

 

“He can’t touch him for political reasons,” Tony replies. “Not unless we can come up with a plan that makes Ross think twice about coming after you.”

 

Bruce rubs his eyes. “Right, like that’s going to happen.”

 

“I’m working on something,” Tony assures him. “Look, give me a couple of weeks, okay? Fury is going to buy us some time, and I can keep you safe and busy while you’re here in the Tower. I’m telling you, interesting projects, stress-free environment, and unlimited access to yours truly. What could be better?”

 

Bruce has a feeling that there’s a catch, but he has to admit that the offer is appealing. “Well, it’s better than running. Tha—”

 

Tony cuts him off. “If what you have to say involves gratitude or apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

 

Bruce smiles. “That doesn’t leave me with a lot of options.”

 

“Well, not out of your usual repertoire,” Tony admits. “But you’re a smart guy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

 

Bruce clears his throat. “All right. What are you working on?”

 

“I knew you’d get the hang of it,” Tony says approvingly. “Jarvis, we’re going to need lunch. Sandwiches, I think.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Tony, you don’t have to—”

 

Tony holds up a finger. “Don’t even.”

 

Bruce runs through his options, and rolls his eyes. “The arc reactor?” he prompts.

 

Tony grins. “Prepare to have your mind _blown_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony has a plan; he _always_ has a plan. Phase One involves convincing Bruce that his life would be much better if he’s not on the run, while not overwhelming him.

 

He has two weeks to prove his point, although he might be able to stretch it out to four if he can keep Bruce distracted. The longer, the better, as far as Tony’s concerned, because that gives him more time to get under Bruce’s defenses.

 

Most people would probably say that’s a short courtship, but he’s Tony Stark, and he has a lot of toys at his disposal to sweeten the deal.

 

By the end of the first week, though, Tony can tell that Bruce is getting twitchy.

 

“Look,” he says hesitantly. “Maybe I should just go.”

 

Tony exaggerates the hurt he feels. “What? You don’t like it here?”

 

“No, it’s great,” Bruce says sincerely. “Really. _You’ve_ been great. It’s just—the longer I stay, the longer Ross has to find out that I’m here. What if—” he falters slightly. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

 

Tony gives him a long look. “Okay, first off, if I wanted to get rid of you, I’d fly you to an undisclosed location that no one but me knew about, thus ensuring you got a significant head start on Ross.”

 

Bruce huffs in quiet laughter. “Yeah, okay, but—”

 

“Or if I were tired of your company, and didn’t think it was safe for you to leave, I’d fly to Malibu, or one of my other residences, and let you have the Penthouse.”

 

Bruce’s eyes widen. “You can’t just let me have a Penthouse.”

 

“Sure I can,” Tony replies. “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m still here, and you’re still here.”

 

Bruce ducks his head. “I get it.”

 

“Good, because I like having you around,” Tony says bluntly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. Do you want a job? Because I wasn’t kidding about that on the helicarrier.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I’d be hell on your insurance rates.”

 

“First off, your control is phenomenal,” Tony says. “And if there’s an explosion, we probably won’t be able to tell whether the damage was caused by the Other Guy or the bomb.”

 

“Someone would,” Bruce mutters, staring just past Tony’s shoulder at the holographic model of the newest arc reactor-powered building, this one located in Dallas. “I can’t stay here forever, Tony.”

 

Tony really wishes that he would. “You said two weeks,” he wheedles. “It’s only been one.”

 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, and that’s longer than I’ve stayed anywhere for over a year.”

 

“Think of this as a vacation with really cool toys,” Tony replies. “How long has it been since you’ve had a vacation?”

 

Bruce’s expression turns wistful. “Too long.”

 

“Good, then you’re due.” Tony puts his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, grateful when the other man doesn’t flinch. “Stay.”

 

Bruce’s mouth tilts up at the corners. “Since you ask so nicely.”

 

“Great. Now, I’ve gotten a request for a consulting gig that’s not really up my alley but might be up yours,” Tony says.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce has no idea what Tony’s up to, but he knows that Tony’s planning _something_. In spite of what Tony had said about a vacation, he’s loading Bruce down with projects he can’t possibly finish in a week.

 

That tells him Tony has no intention of letting him go; Bruce isn’t sure he cares.

 

The problem is that Bruce doesn’t think he can stay.

 

The fourth such project has him saying as much, three days before he’s supposed to leave. “You know I can’t get this done in a few days,” Bruce protests.

 

“So, you’ll stick around a little longer,” Tony replies. “No problem.”

 

“The longer I stay here, the longer Ross has to catch up to me,” Bruce points out.

 

Tony shrugs off the complaint. “I can fly you wherever you want to go, without anyone knowing where you are. I told you, that’s not an issue.”

 

Bruce frowns. “I said two weeks.”

 

“There’s nothing to say you _have_ to leave then,” Tony counters. “You could stay.”

 

“And Ross could storm the Tower,” Bruce replies. “I think I’d prefer to avoid that.”

 

Tony snorts. “Please. Like he’d try. No way in hell.”

 

“I think you’re underestimating his obsession,” Bruce says. “There’s not much that’s going to stop him.”

 

Tony gives him a hard look. “Oh, I think he’s going to come up against a lot of resistance before he even gets close to you.”

 

Bruce can’t disagree with that, knowing how tight Tony’s security is. He believes they’ll have plenty of warning if Ross does storm the Tower, which is the most important thing. As long as Bruce has warning, he can probably get away, and he knows Tony will help him.

 

“I don’t want to put you in harm’s way,” Bruce protests. “Tony, just let me go.”

 

“And let these bastards win?” Tony asks. “No chance.”

 

Bruce sighs. “I need to leave.”

 

“You need to stay,” Tony argues. “As I’ve said.”

 

Bruce won’t meet his eyes. “There’s nothing you can do to keep Ross from coming after me.”

 

“We could get married,” Tony blurts out.

 

Bruce blinks. “Excuse me?”

 

“It’s legal in New York now, you know. We could get married,” Tony says.

 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Bruce asks flatly.

 

“Look, it’s legal, we can get married, and that will get Ross off your back, so I think we should. Get married. You know,” Tony explains all in one breath. “It’ll be great.”

 

Bruce takes his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re not marriage material, Tony, neither of us.”

 

“I’m not talking about that kind of marriage,” Tony replies. “I’m talking about keeping my lab partner around on a permanent basis.”

 

Bruce stares at him. “That doesn’t mean we should get married,” he protests.

 

“No, that means I’ll do whatever it takes,” Tony responds. “Look, you’re a great guy, I’m a great guy, and we’re both unattached. Right now, you’re fair game for people like Ross. If you’re my spouse, Ross will know he has to go through Stark Industries to get to you.”

 

“You’re fucking insane,” Bruce says. “You really are.”

 

“Just think about it,” Tony urges. “If you hate the idea, I get it, but at least think about it.”

 

Bruce sighs. “You’re still crazy for even considering the option,” Bruce protests, “but I’ll think about it. I owe you that much anyway.”

 

Later, Bruce will recognize that’s the end of everything—or at least the end of his life as a single man, but he’s never able to bring himself to regret it.

 

And that’s the thing about Tony. He has the capacity to convince people to do the craziest things, and then make them feel good about it later, no matter what the outcome.

 

But that’s _much_ later, when Bruce is far too happy with his lot in life to care.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony’s sipping coffee and running calculations two days later when Bruce enters his lab and says, “You’re not in love with me.”

 

Really, as a distraction technique to get Bruce to stick around, the proposal was apparently the right call, because Bruce hasn’t said anything about leaving since then.

 

“No,” Tony admits. “But I _like_ you, which I feel is far more important in a long term relationship. And is this a yes?”

 

“This is an ‘I can’t believe I’m crazy enough to even consider it,’” Bruce replies. “It’s definitely not a yes.”

 

“Not _yet_ ,” Tony counters.

 

Bruce sighs. “We’re not having sex.”

 

“Not _yet_ ,” Tony repeats. “I didn’t realize that was on the table.”

 

“It’s not,” Bruce says.

 

“Because I’ve been told I’m irresistible,” Tony says. “I haven’t even put my mind to seducing you yet.”

 

Bruce rubs his eyes. “No, I _can’t_. Not since the Other Guy.”

 

Tony blinks. “Wait, how long has it been?”

 

“Too fucking long,” Bruce mutters bitterly. “So, you know, that’s not a possibility.”

 

Tony shrugs. “It’ll be an open marriage; I can be discreet.”

 

“Then why even do it?” Bruce bursts out. “If you’re not in love with me, and we’re not having sex, why bother?”

 

“First, if I proposed marriage to everyone I wanted to sleep with, I’d have been married a hundred times over by now,” Tony says. “Second, I never saw the point of getting married—until now.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Explain to me again what the point is.”

 

Tony knows when someone is on the ropes. “How long can you run?” he asks, keeping his voice gentle. “Forever?”

 

Bruce looks stricken. “You know I can’t. I’m here, aren’t I?”

 

“Okay, so, you need a way to get Ross off your back,” Tony replies, walking Bruce through his thought process. “He can’t touch Steve, because he’s Captain fucking America, and the public would go nuts at the idea that the Army is experimenting on a national hero. He can’t come after me because I’m a private citizen, and it would make front-page news, and again, the public would go nuts. So, we give you the same kind of shield.”

 

Bruce’s expression is highly skeptical. “By getting married.”

 

“By making you one half of America’s top power couple,” Tony counters. “Look, Pepper and I split up almost a year ago, so the public _wants_ to see me with someone again. The fact that you’re a man guarantees that it’ll be on the front page of every magazine and news rag—probably for _weeks_. And when they figure out that you’re one of the Avengers who saved Manhattan, they’ll love you.”

 

Bruce frowns. “And I’ll never have a private life again.”

 

Tony hates succumbing to the temptation to land a low blow, but he says, “And you have one now?”

 

Bruce flinches.

 

“Hey,” Tony says. “We’ve had fun these last couple of weeks, haven’t we?”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce says quickly. “Yes. I just—don’t want you to feel like you have to tie yourself to me. It’s marriage, Tony.”

 

“It’s a marriage of convenience,” Tony shoots back.

 

Bruce snorts. “Seriously?”

 

Tony shrugs. “What we’ve got is more than most people have. We’re partners, and we’re going to do amazing things together. Two geniuses are always better than one.”

 

“It’s marriage,” Bruce says, as though Tony hadn’t heard him the first time. “That’s supposed to mean something.”

 

“It means a lot,” Tony counters. “In the past, marriages were more about alliances than love.” Bruce doesn’t look convinced, and Tony adds, “You know, I wouldn’t ask just anybody to marry me, Bruce, even if it did mean saving their lives.”

 

“But you could marry someone else,” Bruce points out, and Tony hears what he hasn’t said—that Bruce can’t have sex, at least so far as he knows, and therefore wouldn’t get married, but Tony doesn’t have those limitations.

 

“Look, if I thought announcing a business partnership would keep you safe, I’d leave it at that, but that’s not going to cut it,” Tony explains.

 

“No, it won’t,” Bruce admits softly. “If you get—if it’s not working, you’ll tell me, right?”

 

Tony nods. “Is that a yes?”

 

“Give me another day to think about it,” Bruce says. “And really?”

 

Tony doesn’t question the impulse to reach out and wrap a hand around Bruce’s wrist. “Yes. Absolutely. Let me do this for you.”

 

“You’re crazy,” Bruce complains, but there’s a smile hovering on his lips. “If I did say yes, I’d want a prenup.”

 

“To protect your vast fortune from me?” Tony asks with a wry smile.

 

“To make sure people know I’m not marrying you for _your_ vast fortune,” Bruce replies. “I insist.”

 

“We can work something out,” Tony agrees.

 

Bruce frowns. “And a small ceremony, right?”

 

Tony grins and shakes his head. “Oh, Bruce. You have so much to learn about media relations.”

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce can’t quite believe that he’s even _thinking_ about going through with this, but it’s Tony, and he has a way of convincing people to accept his logic, however off the wall it seems.

 

But the thing is, Bruce is so fucking tired. He’s tired of running, of always looking over his shoulder. He doesn’t mind living rough, but he wants the chance to build a life that’s separate from the Other Guy.

 

And after a couple of weeks staying with Tony, Bruce has a glimpse of a life that’s better than anything he could have imagined, if only he can get Ross off his back.

 

Tony’s idea has the benefit of solid logic. It’s insane logic, but it’s still solid, and he finds himself wavering.

 

What’s a piece of paper, if it means protection from Ross and the Army? Plus, Bruce _likes_ Tony. A lot. He likes working with him; he even likes living in the Tower.

 

It’s stupid; _Bruce_ is stupid for thinking he might have any shot at permanency, but he wants to take the risk.

 

He thinks it might be like skydiving without a parachute—if he could do that without the Other Guy making an appearance. It’s exhilarating, even if he knows the end is going to be both painful and bloody.

 

Tony’s in his workshop, tinkering with a car engine, when Bruce finds him. He’s wearing a black tank top and black cargo pants, and there are streaks of grease on his bare arms, and one on his neck.

 

Bruce isn’t blind, and he isn’t stupid. He knows agreeing to this mad plan is more than just a piece of paper; it means drastically changing his life, in ways he cannot possibly foresee.

 

And it’s even more ridiculous, given that he’s attracted to the man on a lot of levels. Then again, permanently attaching himself to Tony is not the stupidest thing he’s done; that honor goes to the decision to take the serum.

 

But this decision is no less life altering.

 

Bruce waits until Tony looks up to see him in the doorway, and Tony’s grin is blinding. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you today,” Tony says. “I thought you might be hiding.”

 

“Thinking,” Bruce corrects him. “The answer is yes, by the way.”

 

Tony’s grin grows wider, if that’s even possible. “You’re sure.”

 

“Not even a little bit,” Bruce admits. “But I can’t keep going on as I have been, and your logic is sound, if insane.”

 

Tony drops his tools and, heedless of the grease on his hands, claps Bruce on the shoulders. “You’re not going to regret it, I promise.”

 

Bruce smiles ruefully. “It’s not just anyone who would propose marriage to a guy who could destroy the entire building after stubbing his toe.”

 

“No chance of that,” Tony replies. “Besides, I’m fond of the Other Guy. He saved my life. It’s nice to be able to return the favor.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I think you’re biting off more than you can chew.”

 

“I think you’re worrying so much because you like me.”

 

“More than is probably good for me,” Bruce admits candidly. “And I think you’re getting the shitty end of the deal.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “I get to pick your brain, and I get to keep you around. I think you’ll find that a lot of people will end up commiserating with you, not me.” He pats Bruce on the shoulder. “I have to call Pepper and let her know. Stick around, huh?”

 

Bruce grimaces. “Does Pepper have any idea what’s coming?”

 

“A little bit of one,” Tony admits. “But I’m pretty sure she just thought I’d gone crazy.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Haven’t you?”

 

Tony flashes a smirk. “No more than usual. Have a seat; stick around. We need to get moving on this. Strike while the iron is hot, and all that.”

 

Bruce settles into a chair. “By all means.”

 

He feels more than a little trepidation, knowing how important Pepper is to Tony, and knowing that she can’t possibly be okay with this. Bruce has no idea what she must think of him, of this plan, and of how Bruce is using Tony, but Bruce doesn’t have much choice.

 

He just hopes that Tony wants this as much as he’s said.

 

~~~~~

 

There are some things Tony knows better than to spring on Pepper without a word of warning—imminent death and plans to get married are two of those things. Actually, she’d said awhile back that if he sprang any major life changes on her again, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

 

Tony knows better than to risk Pepper’s wrath, especially when he really needs her to be on board with this.

 

So, when Tony calls her, she already knows about his plan, and she’s probably got the paperwork drawn up.

 

“Pepper, Bruce and I are getting married,” Tony announces as soon as he hears her voice. “You’re on speakerphone, by the way.”

 

“I would congratulate you both, but I think this is insane,” Pepper says.

 

“But it will work,” Tony counters. “My ideas always work.”

 

She sighs. “They _usually_ work. The publicity around this will need to be managed carefully, you realize.”

 

“You’ve got a PR person to put on this, don’t you?” Tony counters. “You always have a good PR person.”

 

Pepper sniffs audibly. “I’ll have you know that the public relations department at Stark Industries is the best in the world. It has to be to ensure _you_ don’t cause a disaster.” She unbends enough to admit, “But yes, I think this could work, and work very well. The paperwork will be ready in a few days.”

 

“Thanks, Pepper,” Tony says.

 

She sighs. “Congratulations to both of you. I really hope this works out.”

 

When the call ends, Bruce says flatly, “She doesn’t approve.”

 

“She doesn’t have to approve,” Tony replies. “But she’s worried, more than anything else. She’s always worried when I put myself in harm’s way.”

 

“Because of the Other Guy.”

 

“Because I’m telling an obsessive, possibly homicidal general that he’ll have to go through me to get to you,” Tony counters. “Personally, I don’t think Ross is _that_ crazy, but I’ve been known to be wrong.”

 

Bruce’s mouth twists into an unhappy grimace. “If something happens to you—”

 

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Tony insists. “Now, come on, lose the long face. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Celebrating your imminent demise?”

 

“No, celebrating a new partnership that may wind up netting us a Nobel Prize,” Tony says, slinging an arm around Bruce’s shoulders.

 

He laughs in disbelief. “A Nobel? Seriously?”

 

“It wouldn’t have to be that particular award,” Tony says. “There are plenty of others out there for us to snag. Or for _you_ to snag, even, although if I don’t win the Nobel for the arc reactor, there is something wrong with the world.”

 

There’s a bemused smile tugging at the corners of Bruce’s mouth. “There’s a lot wrong with the world, Tony.”

 

“True,” Tony agrees. “But there’s nothing to say that we can’t try to fix it, right?”

 

Tony has no idea why he’s so anxious for Bruce to agree, although it might be because Tony’s spent the last couple of years trying to fix his mistakes. He had, after all, been known as the Merchant of Death.

 

He wants Bruce to believe in redemption, too, for his own sake if not for Tony’s.

 

Bruce shakes his head, but in wonder, not in disagreement. “It’s a good thing one of us is an optimist.”

 

“Oh, I’m a realist,” Tony says. “And I have had plenty of practice making dreams a reality.”

 

He hopes that Bruce hears the promise in those words, and maybe he does, because Bruce smiles. “Good thing one of us does,” Bruce replies. “I tend to fuck that kind of thing up.”

 

“So do I, but I try to learn from my mistakes,” Tony says. “You’re in good company.”

 

And then they’re in the Penthouse, and Tony lets his arm drop so he can locate and open the bottle of champagne he’d chilled for just this occasion, and he grins broadly and says, “This is going to be fun.”


	4. Chapter 4

A week later, Bruce thinks it’s entirely possible that he’ll wind up killing Tony over the arrangements long before they get to the actual ceremony.

 

“ _How_ many people?” Bruce asks incredulously as they go over the plans in the Penthouse, Tony pulling up data on the large screen. But it’s not equations or models this time; it’s names and possible venues. “I don’t know two hundred people, Tony.”

 

“Which is why the ceremony is going to be small. It’s the after-party that’s important,” Tony says implacably. “So, who do you want at the ceremony? Family?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I have a cousin, but I haven’t seen her in years, and this would be—a little hard to explain.” Running a hand through his hair, Bruce adds, “We should probably ask the team.”

 

“They’d never let me hear the end of it otherwise,” Tony grumbles, swiping a finger over an unfamiliar name, crossing it out. “Ten bucks that Steve will be embarrassed and disapproving.”

 

Bruce shakes his head, trying to suppress his smile, getting up from the couch to move closer, fumbling with his glasses as he looks over the list. “He might surprise you.”

 

“And I live for surprises,” Tony says sarcastically.

 

Bruce smirks. “I surprised you.”

 

“No, you were swayed by my superior logic,” Tony replies, looking smug. “As I knew you would be, being the genius that you are.”

 

“You know, I think I might have gone crazy at some point in the last year,” Bruce says, because he still can’t quite believe he’s going through with this.

 

“Just think of it as a business partnership, if that helps,” Tony replies.

 

Strangely enough, it does. If he looks at this as a long-term business partnership, Bruce doesn’t have any trouble pledging himself to Tony. He can’t think of anyone he’d rather spend the rest of his life with at this point, even if it’s in a purely platonic sense.

 

And since platonic is all Bruce has, he’ll take it, even if he’d like more.

 

“So, who else will be at the ceremony?” Bruce asks.

 

“Our team, Pepper, Happy, Fury,” Tony says. “I don’t have anyone else.”

 

“Neither do I,” Bruce admits.

 

Tony slings an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “That’s why we geniuses have to stick together. Now, for the after-party.”

 

“Why would we have that many people?” Bruce protests.

 

“Because a blow-out party will make news, and that’s what we want. The point is to put you squarely in the media spotlight.”

 

Bruce can’t help the groan that escapes. “ _Tony_.”

 

“You’ll get used to it,” Tony promises, “and you can always hide in the Tower when you need a break.”

 

He sighs, and then gives in to the inevitable. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Tony pats him on the shoulder. “Great. Pepper should be here shortly, and we’ll sign the paperwork.”

 

Bruce isn’t looking forward to that conversation. “Wonderful.”

 

“Don’t worry so much,” Tony says. “Lighten up.”

 

Bruce sighs but doesn’t reply.

 

Pepper enters the lab a few minutes later with a black leather folder. “For the record, I still think this plan is insane,” she announces. “No offense, Bruce.”

 

“None taken,” he replies. “That’s pretty much what I said.”

 

Pepper puts the folder down on the counter. “But it’s also Bruce’s only shot at getting Ross off his back, if my information is correct. He’s completely obsessed, and he has a lot of friends in high places.”

 

Bruce’s stomach twists at the reminder. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

 

“I feel like I need to warn you both that if Ross thinks it’s a sham, or if the public gets wind that it’s a sham, you’re going to be in worse shape than ever,” Pepper points out. “Ross will redouble his efforts. You will absolutely have to present a united front in public.”

 

“It’s not a sham,” Tony protests. “No more than any other marriage. It’s not going to be a problem.”

 

Pepper doesn’t appear entirely convinced, but she lets it go. Bruce wonders what Tony had said to her to get her to go along with it in the first place.

 

“Bruce?” Pepper prompts.

 

Bruce nods. “I’m in.”

 

Pepper looks resigned. “Very well. I’ve got the contract. Bruce, I’ve been instructed by our legal department to tell you that you can and should have your own attorney review it before you sign.”

 

Bruce shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

 

“Then I’ll wait for you to read it,” Pepper insists.

 

Bruce wades through the legal jargon and blinks when he sees the terms. “This is too generous!” he protests.

 

Apparently, that’s the right thing to say, because Pepper smiles. “Any less than that, and we have a PR nightmare if word gets leaked to the press.”

 

“You do realize that anyone else would be upset that the payout was capped at $50 million,” Tony points out. “That’s really a very small percentage of what I have.”

 

Bruce runs a hand though his hair. “Yeah, maybe, but it’s still a hell of a lot of money. I don’t need it.”

 

“Don’t divorce me, and it won’t be a problem,” Tony replies. “You’re the one who asked for a prenup.”

 

Bruce has to concede the point, and he signs where Pepper has marked. “What next?”

 

“Next, we finalize plans for the ceremony,” Pepper replies, her expression perfectly bland.

 

“And the party,” Tony inserts.

 

Pepper shakes her head. “First, the ceremony. It needs to set the right tone.”

 

“What tone is that?” Bruce asks.

 

Pepper smiles. “Total commitment.”

 

Bruce ducks his head, and then glances at Tony, who’s grinning smugly. “I won’t have to fake that,” he admits.

 

Tony’s grin broadens. “This is going to be great.”

 

“If you say so,” Bruce replies. “So, how are we going to do this?”

 

Pepper nods in a businesslike fashion. “I would suggest holding the ceremony on the landing pad of the Tower. We can control security and press better that way, and it’s symbolic.”

 

“I agree,” Tony says, turning serious. “Do you have the press release written yet?”

 

Pepper pulls a piece of paper out of her slim black leather folder. “I think it strikes the right tone.”

 

Bruce reads it over Tony’s shoulder. It’s relatively short, but Bruce supposes that’s for the best, given what it says.

 

“Tony Stark would like to announce his marriage to Dr. Bruce Banner. He says, ‘After meeting over a year ago, my friendship with Bruce has grown to be the most important part of my life, and he’s made me a very happy man by agreeing to marry me. We’re planning a small, intimate ceremony, and a celebration afterward. I look forward to all of you getting to know the man I love, who is one of the most decent people I’ve ever met.’”

 

“You can’t say that,” Bruce objects.

 

“Tony isn’t going to say it,” Pepper replies. “Your media relations person is going to say it, and she will be handling all of your public appearances. You’ll meet her next week, and I want you to listen to her, _Tony_.”

 

Bruce covers his smile with his hand.

 

“I always listen, Pep,” Tony protests. “I don’t always follow advice.”

 

“But you’re going to follow my advice this time, because you want to keep Bruce safe,” Pepper replies severely. “Laurel is very, very good at this sort of thing. I picked her especially, because I’m pretty sure you won’t make her cry.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “When do I make anybody cry?”

 

Pepper fixes him with a stern look. “More often than you know. Bruce, at least I know I can trust you in this.”

 

“I’m happy to let someone else call the shots,” Bruce agrees. When Tony gets this absolutely filthy expression on his face, Bruce qualifies, “At least where PR is concerned.”

 

Tony confines himself to a smirk. “I will do my best. I suggest green for the color scheme.”

 

“No, no way,” Bruce says definitively.

 

Tony laughs at him. “Any other objections?”

 

“Well, I’m not promising to obey you,” Bruce replies wryly. “But I think that’s it.”

 

“Silver,” Pepper says decisively. “It’s not a color connected to either of your alter egos. Silver for Tony, and pewter for Bruce.”

 

Bruce has only a vague idea what that means, but he agrees readily enough. Silver—of any shade—seems safe. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Sounds good.”

 

“Excellent,” Pepper replies, and Bruce has a feeling that she’d already made plans, and had every intention of bringing them around to her point of view. “We’re going to do heavy hors d’oeuvres at the reception, and an open bar, of course.”

 

Tony rubs his hands together. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff.”

 

“Neither of you are allowed to get drunk,” Pepper insists. “And you’re going to have to look like you’re having a good time, and be physically affectionate. You don’t have to overdo it, but everyone needs to believe that you’re together and madly in love.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony and begins to wonder if he can do this. They might not be in public together often, but they’re going to have to pretend every time they are.

 

“Hey, no problem,” Tony says, squeezing the back of Bruce’s neck, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle. “We’ve got this.”

 

Pepper gives them a calculating look, and then says, “I see you aren’t going to have a problem. Now, let’s talk decorations.”

 

Bruce sighs, and settles in for the long haul.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony breathes a sigh of relief when the plans are finalized and the paperwork has been signed. Bruce can still back out, but they’re just that much farther down the road.

 

“So, you done for the day, or are you up for spending some time in the lab?” Tony asks after Pepper’s gone.

 

Bruce still looks a little dazed. “I don’t know.”

 

Lab time is out, then. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Very,” Bruce says. “I didn’t eat much today.”

 

“Let’s go out,” Tony says impulsively. “We can get some food, have a drink, and just relax before the craziness begins.”

 

Bruce gets a mischievous look. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

 

“If you like,” Tony replies with a grin. “I hope you don’t mind being seen with me.”

 

“I think the opposite is more likely,” Bruce says. “What about Ross?”

 

Tony shrugs. “What about him? If he attacks you while you’re with me, he’s going to have a lot of bad press on his hands.”

 

Bruce raises his chin defiantly; it’s a good look on him. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.”

 

Tony’s not willing to risk Pepper’s wrath by making a big splash, but he’s gone incognito before.

 

New York is great for that, actually. He gets a few fans approaching him for autographs or pictures, but most people leave him alone. Bruce hasn’t been in the news since right after the battle over Manhattan, so he’s not easily recognizable—at least not yet.

 

With any luck, they’ll pass unobserved, or at least unremarked upon, and for that Tony asks, “Jarvis, what’s the closest, best Indian restaurant? I’m looking for a hole-in-the-wall.”

 

“There’s a restaurant within five blocks that fits within those parameters,” Jarvis replies. “I’ve sent directions to your phone.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony says. “Come on, Bruce. Let’s get you fed.”

 

The restaurant is small and intimate, and fairly quiet at this unfashionably early hour. Tony lets Bruce order for him as he converses with their waiter in halting Hindi. The young woman patiently waits for Bruce to come up with the right words, correcting him when necessary.

 

Tony tries to ignore how much of a turn-on it is to hear Bruce speak a foreign language, and isn’t entirely successful. He’s grateful that the table hides that fact.

 

Eventually, their waitress takes their menus and disappears again, and Tony asks, “How many languages do you speak?”

 

“One,” Bruce says with a smile. “Or, at least, I speak only one fluently.”

 

“How many do you speak poorly?” Tony teases.

 

Bruce pauses and admits, “I speak Spanish fairly well, and I do alright with Portuguese. I speak some Hindi, a little Bengali, and some Russian. I know a few phrases of Pashto, and about the same amount of Dari. And I took French in high school, but I’m not sure I remember anything.”

 

Tony blinks. “That’s more than I can say.”

 

Bruce grins, looking a little shy. “Necessity is the mother of invention, and all that.”

 

“Say something in Spanish,” Tony orders.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he says in Spanish.

 

Tony grins and replies in the same language, “Believe it. You’ll be around a long time if I have anything to say about it.”

 

“You were holding out on me,” Bruce accuses with a smile, switching to English.

 

“Spanish, French, Italian, and Dari,” Tony says dismissively. “And I meant what I said, you know.”

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “Still. It’s true. This is all pretty new to me.”

 

Tony jostles Bruce’s foot under the table. “If anybody deserves a break, it’s you.”

 

“Then I suppose I should thank you for giving me one,” Bruce replies.

 

“Purely selfish on my part, I assure you,” Tony replies.

 

The waitress brings a couple of small bowls of mulligatawny soup and a basket of naan to their table, along with a couple of Kingfishers. Bruce sips his and smiles. “This isn’t bad,” he admits.

 

“You’ve never had one?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I don’t drink much, especially when I’m looking over my shoulder.”

 

“So, this is different for you,” Tony says.

 

Bruce gives him an incredulous look. “I’m getting married. To _you_. I’ve been on the run for a year. A night out, to have dinner and a drink? I think it’s different.”

 

“Good different?” Tony presses, unable to help himself.

 

“Well, it’s certainly not bad,” Bruce replies with a smile.

 

Tony breaks off a piece of naan. “Regret anything?”

 

“No,” Bruce says bluntly. “I don’t regret coming to you for help, and I don’t regret the road we’re walking down. It’s a relief in a way.”

 

Tony frowns. “In what way?”

 

“I don’t have to wonder where I’m going to wake up in the morning,” Bruce replies. “I have a steady source of income. I know that someone is watching my back.” Bruce shakes his head. “I can’t even begin to explain the difference.”

 

If Tony had needed confirmation that he was making the right call—which he didn’t—he just got it. “You don’t need to,” Tony replies. “It’s enough to know you don’t regret it.”

 

“I don’t,” Bruce replies. “But I think you should know that I think I’m going to ask Steve to be my best man.”

 

Tony grimaces. “Seriously?”

 

“Steve is a good guy, and he’ll make everybody think it’s real,” Bruce says. “When I explain, he’ll be on board.”

 

Tony isn’t convinced. “Ten bucks that he flips out.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Bruce insists. “Steve’s support will go a long way towards proving that our relationship is serious. And if he’s at the wedding, and at the reception, no one will be able to say it’s not legitimate.”

 

Tony nods. He has to admit that Captain America will lend an aura of legitimacy to the whole affair. “Good luck,” Tony says. “I mean that.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Steve and I—we were both guinea pigs. He’ll be on board.”

 

“I hope he is,” Tony replies. “But whether he’s on board or not, this is worth it. _You’re_ worth it.”

 

Bruce gives him a pleased look. “I hope you continue to believe that.”

 

Tony reaches out to squeeze Bruce’s knee under the table. “Don’t doubt it.”

 

And then their meals arrive and Tony pats Bruce’s knee, feeling good.

 

He knows this is going to work, and it’s going to be _great_.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce isn’t quite as sanguine about Steve’s reaction as he’d wanted Tony to believe. The thing is, he likes Steve quite a bit, but he knows Tony is mostly annoyed by him, so Bruce isn’t going to share his doubts. Tony doesn’t need another reason to dislike Steve.

 

Besides, it’s true; if Captain America is at the wedding, everybody will believe that it’s real.

 

But Bruce has no idea how much a product of his time that Steve might be where it concerns a relationship between two men—even if there isn’t one, strictly speaking.

 

“Thanks for meeting me,” Bruce says as Steve settles into the seat across from him in the small outdoor café near the Tower. “I appreciate it.”

 

Bruce isn’t sure it’s entirely safe to be outside the Tower, but his outing with Tony went fairly well last week, and the same logic applies to Steve. If Ross won’t risk attacking Tony, he won’t touch Steve either.

 

“No problem,” Steve says easily. “It’s good to see you, Dr. Banner. It’s been too long.”

 

“Please, call me Bruce,” he replies. “And I’ve had some trouble over the last year.”

 

Steve’s forehead immediately creases in concern. “Anything I can help with?”

 

“I’m hoping so,” Bruce admits. “General Ross has been chasing me.”

 

Steve nods slowly. “He was the commanding officer in charge of the super soldier experiment you were working on, right?”

 

“That’s right,” Bruce agrees.

 

“And he was chasing you before the Battle of Manhattan,” Steve continues.

 

Bruce nods. “Still is. He wants to weaponize the Hulk.”

 

“What can I do?” Steve asks simply.

 

Bruce takes a breath. “Tony has a plan.”

 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

 

“Tony thinks that if the public knows about me—if I’m famous—Ross won’t be able to touch me,” Bruce explains. “Like—like you.”

 

Steve winces. “I’d say fame is overrated, but I can see his point. What’s Tony’s idea? Are you going public as the Hulk?”

 

“Yes, but Tony thinks I need more. If everybody—if Ross—thinks they have to go through him and Stark Industries to get to me, Ross will think twice about trying anything.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “So, we’re getting married.”

 

Bruce doesn’t meet Steve’s eyes, looking anywhere but at him in the stunned silence that follows.

 

“That will certainly get you on the front page,” Steve finally says, and the warm amusement in his voice causes Bruce to look up. “I hear it’s legal in New York now.”

 

Bruce smiles. “It’s not—it’s not like that. Not really. It’s more of a partnership than anything else. Tony’s giving me his name, and I get the protection. I’m not really sure what Tony’s getting out of the deal.”

 

“Maybe all he wants is to protect his friend,” Steve suggests.

 

Bruce is a little surprised at Steve’s easy acceptance; he thought he’d have to work a little harder to convince Steve. “You don’t care?”

 

Steve hitches a shoulder. “There are some things I’m old fashioned about, but this isn’t one of them. I assume there aren’t a lot of other options.”

 

“Try none,” Bruce says. “At least, none that I could see, and this is insane, I know, but I think Tony might be right. I think this might work.”

 

“What can I do?”

 

“Be my best man,” Bruce says immediately. “If you’re there, people will believe it’s real.”

 

Steve appears to think about it for a minute. “Is it real?”

 

“We’re really getting married,” Bruce says. “And it’s permanent, as far as we’re concerned.”

 

Steve nods. “Then that’s good enough for me. I’ll be there, and I’ll stand up with you.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “If you don’t mind me asking, _why_ are you not old fashioned about this?” he asks, using Steve’s terminology.

 

“I knew a guy,” Steve replies, looking off into the distance. “He was an artist, and one of the nicest guys I knew. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, but there were guys who used it against him. And I hate bullies.”

 

Bruce nods and breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thanks, Steve.”

 

A smile lights Steve’s face. “Plus, I’m guessing Tony will be surprised that I’m cool about it.”

 

The use of the slang causes Bruce to laugh. “Cool, huh?”

 

“I’m getting up to speed,” Steve replies.

 

“Yeah, Tony will probably be surprised, but I’m grateful,” Bruce says.

 

Steve shrugs. “Anything you need, Bruce, I mean it.”

 

Bruce gives him a relieved smile. “We’re making the announcement later today. I wanted to be sure you heard it from me first.”

 

Steve smiles. “And Clint and Natasha?”

 

“Tony’s in charge of notifying SHIELD,” Bruce says. “I didn’t want to be around for that.”

 

Steve’s expression turns a little mischievous. “I wouldn’t mind being a fly on that wall when Tony tells Director Fury that you guys are getting married.”

 

Bruce laughs. “Ask Tony. Knowing him, he’ll record it.”

 

He only hopes that everything else goes so smoothly.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony pours himself a drink at the bar in the Penthouse, wondering whether Bruce is having any success with his errand. He can’t believe that Steve won’t be uptight and disapproving about this, even if he professes understanding.

 

He and Steve have come a long way from their first meeting, but they’re not exactly close.

 

Bruce walks inside, and Tony whistles when he sees Bruce in a pair of well-cut black slacks and a red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “Look at you.”

 

Bruce glances down. “I suppose you’re the one filled up my closet.”

 

“I may have arranged for something like that,” Tony admits. “You have certain appearances to keep up, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I’m fairly hard on clothing, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Good thing you’re marrying a billionaire,” Tony replies. “Which is kind of the point behind looking the part. How was the thing with Steve?”

 

“He’s going to do it,” Bruce replies, smiling. “He was surprisingly cool about the whole thing.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “So, you weren’t actually sure that he would go along with it.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Trust you to focus on that. And no, I wasn’t completely sure, but I was hopeful. When is the media relations person supposed to be here?”

 

“Very shortly,” Tony replies. “Along with Pepper.”

 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe there’s going to be a person who’s in charge of media relations.”

 

“Beats your usual methods, huh?” Tony teases.

 

Bruce chuckles. “What? Running as far away as I can? I don’t know. Jury’s still out.”

 

Tony smirks. “Just remember. You can always ignore advice. But if you do, let me know so I can be there with you.”

 

Bruce flashes him a grateful grin. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

 

“Miss Potts is on her way up, sir,” Jarvis announces. “Along with your new media relations expert.”

 

Bruce rubs the back of his neck. “So, we talk with them, and then she makes the announcement?”

 

“We’re going to watch it on TV,” Tony assures him. “And we can hide out in the Tower as long as you want.”

 

The elevator doors open and Pepper and a young woman exit. Bruce tugs at his shirt, looking a little ill, and Tony puts a comforting hand on Bruce’s lower back. Tony catches the look that Pepper and the other woman exchange—knowing and vaguely approving.

 

“Tony, Bruce, this is Laurel Goodwin,” Pepper says. “Laurel, Tony Stark and Dr. Bruce Banner.”

 

Laurel shakes both their hands in turn, her green eyes keen. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

 

“Can I get you a drink?” Tony asks them.

 

“I’ll pass,” Laurel replies, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “We don’t have a lot of time before the press conference.”

 

Tony steers Bruce over to the couch with a hand on his back. “Let’s hear it.”

 

“We’re just going to read the prepared announcement today,” Laurel replies. “I’ll take a few questions, assuming they aren’t completely stupid.”

 

Tony barks a surprised laugh at her candor. “What constitutes a stupid question?” he asks out of curiosity.

 

“Which one of you bottoms is at the top of that list.” She grins. “Pun intended.”

 

Tony’s beginning to like this woman. “Fair enough.”

 

“Otherwise, I think you can keep doing what you’re doing in public,” Laurel says cheerfully. “But in addition to managing public relations for the two of you, I’ll be acting as Dr. Banner’s personal assistant.”

 

Bruce straightens. “Personal assistant?”

 

“I’m here to serve you, Dr. Banner,” Laurel assures him. “You’re going to have public appearances.” Tony sees Bruce grimace, and Laurel reiterates, “You _will_ have public appearances. The whole point is to make sure people know who you are, and to _like_ you.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “You’d have to be a miracle worker to manage that.”

 

Laurel raises her eyebrows. “Pepper and Tony both like you. I have a good instinct for people, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to get along great. And I’m _very_ good at my job, Dr. Banner. While I wouldn’t do it, I could make the public fall in love with a serial killer if I put my mind to it.”

 

Tony can tell that Bruce wants to draw a comparison between himself and a serial killer, but Tony squeezes the back of his neck, cutting Bruce off.

 

If anybody is going to draw that comparison, it’s going to be Tony, who has far more blood on his hands.

 

“Call me Bruce,” he says instead. “And if you think that’s what it takes.”

 

“Listen to me,” Laurel says. “I will make it so that the two of you are the most popular couple in America. If I have my way, you’ll be the most beloved couple in the world. And I almost always have my way.”

 

Bruce swallows and nods. “Okay.”

 

“Look, literally the only thing you two need to do is exactly what you’re doing right now,” she says. “As long as you look affectionate in public, people will draw their own conclusions. And, quite frankly, I’m not at all worried.”

 

Tony wonders if that should faze him, but it doesn’t. Instead, it’s something of a comfort to know that he doesn’t have to force anything.

 

“It’s entirely plausible that the two of you would avoid the press before the wedding,” Laurel continues. “I can sell that as two people who are so in love they don’t want to leave their bedroom. After the honeymoon, I’ll arrange for a carefully orchestrated series of outings to give the public the picture they need to love you.”

 

Tony grimaces, and he can see a matching expression on Bruce’s face, but this isn’t unexpected. Public relations involves a certain amount of public contact, after all.

 

“I’m in your hands,” Bruce finally says when Tony holds his tongue.

 

Laurel smiles. “I won’t steer you wrong.”

 

Tony catches Pepper’s eye, and she nods, signaling her approval, and he heaves a purely internal sigh, knowing that this is exactly what he’d signed on for.

 

This war could only be waged through the media, and that means playing the game.

 

And this is only the beginning salvo.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce settles next to Tony on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. Tony had offered him a drink, but Bruce is too nervous for alcohol—he doesn’t want to come to rely upon it in any way.

 

Tony lounges next to Bruce, legs spread wide, apparently relaxed. The ice clinks in his glass as he lifts it to his lips. The only sign of nerves on Tony’s part is the tapping of his fingers on the back of the couch, right behind Bruce’s head.

 

Pepper sits on Tony’s other side, tapping away at her phone. Bruce has no idea why she’s still there, but he finds he doesn’t mind her presence. He has no idea what convinced her, but she seems to be in their corner, which is comforting.

 

Bruce doesn’t think they would have been able to carry out this mad plan without her assistance.

 

“Here we go,” Tony says as the commercial turns to footage of the Stark Tower lobby, which has been set up for the press conference.

 

Laurel steps up to the podium, looking poised and confident in her tailored gray suit. “Thank you for coming,” she begins. “It’s nice to see you all again.”

 

There’s some laughter from the assembled press, and Bruce glances at Pepper. “Laurel’s been working for SI for a while. They know her by now,” Pepper explains.

 

Laurel begins to read the prepared statement when the crowd quiets, and there’s an immediate murmur when she gets to the word “marry.” As soon as she finishes and says, “I’ll take a few questions,” the whole room erupts.

 

Bruce can see that Laurel is very good at what she does, because she merely smiles at the chaos that ensues. After a long moment, she points at a reporter at the front. “Miriam.”

 

“Mr. Stark is well known as being a playboy, but he’s never been romantically connected to a man. Is this a change for him?”

 

“Mr. Stark is open to love in all its forms,” Laurel says diplomatically. “I should probably point out that he’s never proposed marriage before.”

 

“So, Dr. Banner is special?” someone shouts, although Bruce can’t tell who.

 

Laurel nods. “Dr. Banner is very special—particularly to Mr. Stark.”

 

“Why isn’t Mr. Stark doing this press conference?” another reporter shouts. “He usually likes to stir things up.”

 

“Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are enjoying their privacy before the wedding,” Laurel replies easily. “And there are some safety concerns at the moment.”

 

“Is it true that Dr. Banner is the Hulk?” someone else calls.

 

Laurel nods. “It’s true. Mr. Stark met Dr. Banner for the first time just prior to the battle over Manhattan, and Dr. Banner saved his life. That’s all the questions for now.”

 

She walks away from the podium, leaving the reporters to shout after her, and Pepper nods in apparent satisfaction.

 

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, huh?” Tony says with a smile. “That was well done.”

 

Pepper nods. “We can’t do much about keeping the time and date of the wedding from being leaked, but I trust that you can handle security, Tony.”

 

“No problem,” Tony says airily. “At least where the Tower is concerned. Bruce? Can I get you a drink?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Not right now.”

 

Tony rises and holds out a hand to Bruce. “We have things to do in the lab. Pepper, thanks for everything.”

 

“Hold on,” Pepper says. “We still have plans to finalize. I’m going to order dinner, and we’re going to get familiar with each other.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that Bruce is the only person I’m supposed to be familiar with,” Tony jokes, and Bruce snorts.

 

Pepper shakes her head, although she’s smiling. “I’m beginning to think you two deserve one another. Like it or not, Tony, we need to make some plans.”

 

“You make plans, and we’ll follow them,” Tony says.

 

Pepper opens her mouth to reply, but Jarvis interrupts her. “I’m sorry, sir, but Director Fury is on the phone, and he’s most insistent.”

 

Tony grins, and Bruce’s stomach sinks. “Video and audio, Jarvis,” Tony orders.

 

Director Fury’s face fills the view screen. “What the fuck did I just see, Stark?”

 

Tony smirks and settles back onto the couch next to Bruce, stretching an arm out over the back, not quite touching him. “I have no idea what you just saw, considering that I’m not psychic.”

 

“Don’t play games with me,” Fury growls.

 

“Oh, I’m not,” Tony says, his voice hard. “No more than you play games with Bruce’s safety when you refuse to act against Ross. I’m taking action where you won’t.”

 

Fury’s eye narrows. “And when it comes out that this is a publicity stunt? Have you thought about what Ross might do then?”

 

“It’s no stunt,” Tony snaps. “I’m doing what has to be done.”

 

Fury looks at Bruce. “And you, Dr. Banner? Are you on board with this?”

 

Something in Fury’s tone strengthens Bruce’s resolve. “We’re in this together.”

 

“By the way, you’re invited to the wedding,” Tony replies. “Invitation’s in the mail. Nice talking to you.”

 

At a gesture from Tony, Fury’s face blinks out, and Pepper makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Well, you told him.”

 

“He wouldn’t lift a finger to help Bruce,” Tony says stubbornly.

 

“I thought you were going to tell SHIELD what’s going on,” Bruce objects.

 

Tony’s expression is completely innocent. “I may have let the call to Fury slip my mind, although I’m pretty sure I sent Clint and Natasha both an email.”

 

Bruce decides to let it go. He still hasn’t forgotten the cage, so he’s not too bent out of shape over Fury’s explosion. “What have we got now?” he asks, changing the subject, and resigning himself to a day of not getting any kind of work done.

 

“We have party plans to finalize, and a few more documents to sign,” Pepper replies. The elevators open, and Laurel steps into the Penthouse. “And now that Laurel is here, we can get Bruce’s employment contract signed, as well as a few other things taken care of.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Why do I need a contract?”

 

“Because everything has to be absolutely above board,” Laurel replies. “You’re working for Stark Industries, you’re getting a salary, and you have a benefits package. The more legit it looks, the better we look.”

 

“Well done, by the way,” Tony says, his hand brushing up against the back of Bruce’s neck.

 

Laurel smiles. “This _is_ my job, Mr. Stark. By this time tomorrow, someone will have dug up Ross’ interest in Dr. Banner. In two days’ time, they’ll start making comparisons between Ross wanting him and the Senate trying to get your suit. Someone will play the clip of you comparing what they wanted to prostitution. By the time you get back from your honeymoon, we will be well on our way towards crafting a sympathetic picture in the media.”

 

“But all that depends on having a plan, which is what we’re finalizing now,” Pepper insists. “Suck it up, Tony, because this was your idea.”

 

Bruce laughs at that, feeling Tony’s warm hand on the back of his neck. “Where do I sign?” he asks, because he knows when he’s beat.

 

Or at least, he knows when not to fight.  All he has to learn now is how not to run away.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony checks the lines of his custom suit in the mirror and adjusts his silver tie, turning when he hears a knock on the door.

 

Tony calls, “Come in.”

 

Pepper slips inside. “Everything’s in place.”

 

“Great,” Tony replies, and straightens his tie again.

 

“Stop that,” she scolds and waves his hands away, making a minor adjustment and running her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “You look very handsome.”

 

Tony frowns. “Are you okay?”

 

“Well, I never thought I’d see you get married,” Pepper admits, “but I should have known that if you did, it wouldn’t be for the usual reasons.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What’s the usual reason?”

 

“You’re so madly in love you’re willing to risk everything on the idea you’ll spend your whole life together,” Pepper replies.

 

“And the more unusual reason?”

 

“To save a friend from an obsessive general.”

 

Tony takes a breath. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I have no regrets,” Pepper insists. “As long as you’re happy.”

 

“I’ve thought it through, Pep,” Tony replies. “This is the only way out I could come up with.”

 

Pepper smiles, her expression a little wistful. “I like Bruce, you know, and I really hope you’ll be happy together.” She pats him on the chest. “We should go. You don’t want to be late.”

 

Tony sometimes wonders what would have happened if things hadn’t fizzled out between them, but in the end, they work better as friends, and they’d parted amicably enough. It had taken time to get back to their old, easy friendship, but things had pretty much gone back to normal by the time Bruce turned up again.

 

He just hopes this doesn’t make things too weird.

 

Holding the ceremony on the landing pad had definitely been a stroke of genius on Pepper’s part. It’s symbolic, meaningful, and they can strictly control access. He and Bruce will have to be careful at the reception, of course, but not here. For the ceremony, at least, they can be honest with each other, and with the few people present.

 

Although that doesn’t mean they’re not going to be careful.

 

When Tony steps outside, there’s a stiff breeze, and there are a half dozen people milling around, including Happy, Fury, and the rest of the Avengers. He doesn’t see Bruce, though, and Tony wonders if he has cold feet.

 

Steve marches up to Tony and sticks out a hand. “This is really big of you, Tony.”

 

Bruce had said Steve was on board, but he’s surprised at Steve’s enthusiasm. “Uh, thanks?”

 

“Congratulations,” Steve says sincerely. “I hope it works out.”

 

Tony nods slowly, a little freaked out, and starting to wonder where Bruce is. “Have you seen Bruce?”

 

“I stopped by his room before I came up here,” Steve replies, clapping Tony on the back. “He said he’d be along shortly.”

 

Fury approaches next, wearing his usual ensemble of all black. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Stark.”

 

Tony shrugs. “You can’t protect him, and I can.”

 

Fury appears deeply skeptical. “How do you know he won’t have an incident the first time you have a domestic dispute?”

 

“Bruce has better control than that,” Tony shoots back.

 

“Good luck,” Fury mutters, clearly unconvinced.

 

The truth is, Tony thinks Bruce will probably need more luck than he does.

 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Tony Stark got married,” Natasha says with a smile as she and Clint approach. “And to Dr. Banner.”

 

Tony shrugs. “It seemed like the thing to do.” He’s still looking for Bruce, who hasn’t appeared yet. “Clint, good to see you again. We’re working on those new arrows.”

 

“It’ll keep until after the honeymoon,” Clint replies with a smirk.

 

Tony probably wouldn’t have bothered with a honeymoon, but Pepper and Laurel had insisted that it was part of the deal. Tony would be just as happy to spend a week in a lab with Bruce, especially if they’re not going to be using the bed for recreational purposes.

 

“My friend!” Thor booms as he approaches. “I’m pleased that you and Bruce have found happiness together.”

 

Clint and Natasha wear identical smirks as Thor pounds him on the back and nearly knocks Tony off his feet. Someone—possibly the woman hovering behind Thor with an anxious smile—has dressed Thor in a suit and white shirt, which does nothing to detract from how imposing he is.

 

“Thanks,” Tony says, still looking for Bruce. He’s seriously beginning to wonder if he’d been stood up.

 

“This is my paramour, Dr. Jane Foster,” Thor says, and really she’s lovely, but Tony is distracted, wondering where Bruce could be. He manages to murmur a greeting, but his eye is on the door.

 

And then Bruce steps out on the roof in a black suit that fits him like a glove, his tie a slightly darker shade of silver than Tony’s. He wears an anxious expression, but he smiles as he catches Tony’s eye.

 

Tony grins, relieved that Bruce has finally shown, and when Bruce gets close enough, he throws an arm over his shoulders. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind.”

 

“I may not be up to your level, but I’ve been assured I’m not an idiot,” Bruce says dryly. “There’s still time to back out, you know,” he murmurs, low enough so that only Tony can hear.

 

Tony shakes his head. “Not a chance. You?”

 

“I’m here,” Bruce replies. “That should be answer enough.”

 

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Tony announces, steering Bruce to stand in front of the justice of the peace with a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

 

There’s really not much to the ceremony. Pepper stands on Tony’s right, and Steve follows through on his promise, standing on Bruce’s left. Steve is even wearing a pleasant smile.

 

When Tony raises an eyebrow, Bruce smirks and whispers, “You still owe me ten.”

 

The justice of the peace clears her throat over Tony’s snort of laughter, and she begins a variation of the most basic rite on file.

 

“Bruce and Tony have come before you today to pledge their allegiance to each other in front of their friends,” she says. “In this, they are promising to support one another, to protect one another, and to care for one another in all things. Having seen the best and the worst of each other, knowing the dangers they each face, they choose to stand united, rather than apart.”

 

Bruce stares determinedly at the justice, not glancing at Tony at all, although his grip on Tony’s hand is bruising.

 

“Do you, Tony, promise to stand by Bruce, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, whatever comes your way, as long as you both shall live?”

 

It’s surprisingly easy to say, “I do.”

 

She repeats the same vows for Bruce, and he finally looks at Tony, looking frightened and determined in equal measure. “I do.”

 

They exchange rings—and Tony makes a mental note to find something that will expand with the Hulk, because the last thing he needs is Bruce losing a finger (if that’s even possible)—and then she says, “Bruce, Tony, you may now kiss your husband.”

 

Tony cocks his head, and Bruce gives a little shrug, as though to say, “I’m game if you are,” and Tony cups Bruce’s jaw in one hand and leans in.

 

It’s a brief, almost chaste kiss, because now is really not the time to explore all the things Tony wants to do to Bruce, especially after he’d insisted that sex was off the table. He can’t help brushing his thumb against Bruce’s cheek, though, and he doesn’t miss the way Bruce leans into the touch ever so slightly.

 

And Tony wishes he could lean in for one more kiss and test those boundaries, but those present are offering congratulations, and they really have to get to the after-party, because that’s what’s going to seal the deal and give Bruce the protection he needs.

 

For the first time in his life, Tony wishes he could skip the party. He wants to explore Bruce a little more fully, and he wants to see just where those boundaries lie because Tony has never run up against a line he doesn’t want to cross.

 

Maybe he’ll have to go slow, but he’s going to get there, one way or another.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce isn’t quite sure what he expects from the after-party. He’s heard of Tony’s parties, of course, and he’d been somewhat involved in planning this one, but he has no idea what to expect.

 

But when they enter the room—the ballroom of one of the nicer hotels in Manhattan—there’s classical music from a string quartet, just loud enough to be heard over the voices of those present. Everyone is dressed formally, and while there’s a bar in the corner and waiters are circulating with glasses of champagne, it’s all very high class.

 

It is, in fact, the very picture of what Bruce might have expected from a wedding reception of one of the world’s richest men.

 

Tony has an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, and he leans in close to whisper in Bruce’s ear. “Relax. I guarantee that no one here is out to get you.”

 

Bruce smiles ruefully. “This doesn’t seem like your usual kind of crowd.”

 

“This is pretty much all Pepper,” Tony admits. “You have to admit she has good taste.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Yeah, but—”

 

“I know what you’re going to say, and don’t. This isn’t my party; it’s a way to prove a point.” Tony takes the sting out of his words by pulling Bruce even closer.  “All you have to do is smile, and look like you’re having a good time.”

 

“I’m not really good in large groups of people,” Bruce points out, although he is smiling. It’s hard not to with Tony’s arm around him.

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Tony replies. “You’re good with me. Focus on that. We’re newly married. We aren’t supposed to have eyes for anyone else anyway.”

 

Bruce chuckles and watches Tony flag down a passing waiter. He grabs a glass of champagne with his free hand and hands it to Bruce, then grabs another for himself.

 

“Drink up,” Tony advises. “Trust me, it makes events like this endurable.”

 

Bruce sips and lets Tony steer him to a table clearly marked “Reserved” at the front of the room. Steve is already sitting there, looking very uncomfortable and tugging at his collar. “I told you this was going to work,” Bruce says.

 

Tony snorts. “He still has a stick up his ass.”

 

“Be nice,” Bruce admonishes. “He was my best man.”

 

“That will buy you _one_ evening,” Tony warns him.

 

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce says warmly, sitting down next to him. “Thanks again.”

 

Steve shrugs. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

 

Tony drops into the seat next to Bruce. “I didn’t think this would be your kind of thing,” Tony says, keeping an arm draped over Bruce’s shoulders.

 

“When I explained it to the team, they all wanted to help,” Steve replies. “We look out for each other, right?”

 

“And we appreciate it,” Bruce insists. “It means a lot.”

 

Steve shrugs. “It’s been a long time since I was at a wedding. Should be fun.”

 

Tony insists they make the rounds after that, stopping to introduce Bruce to everyone he knows, and a few people he doesn’t. Tony works the room with practiced charm, dazzling everyone with his wit, but he keeps touching Bruce with an arm around his shoulders, a hand wrapped around Bruce’s upper arm, tangling their fingers together.

 

Even though it’s not real, even though he knows it’s just for show, Bruce can’t help but feel dazed at his good fortune. Assuming Tony is right, Bruce might even be able to stay in one place for a while.

 

And with Tony touching him like this, Bruce doesn’t have to feign interest or intimacy, nor does he have to fake the pleased grin that keeps breaking out over his face. Then, Tony moves his arm from Bruce’s shoulders to around his waist, tucking his hand into Bruce’s pocket.

 

The casual, intimate gesture flusters Bruce a bit, and he echoes the movement, hooking his thumb through one of Tony’s belt loops. Tony’s fingers caress Bruce’s leg in response, and Bruce has to swallow hard and will himself not to respond.

 

“I have to say, this is quite the surprise, Mr. Stark,” Mayor Klein says. “I didn’t think the world’s most eligible bachelor would ever get married.”

 

Tony shrugs. “I finally met someone I wanted to keep around forever.”

 

Bruce probably doesn’t quite manage to keep the silly grin off his face. He has to keep telling himself that this isn’t real, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

 

“Well, good luck with him, Dr. Banner,” the mayor says cheerfully. “I imagine you’ll need it.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “You know, no one has wished _me_ luck tonight.”

 

“That’s because I’m sure Dr. Banner needs it more,” Klein replies with a chuckle. “You forget how long I’ve known you, Tony. Watch out for this one, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce smiles. “My eyes are wide open, Mayor. That’s why I’m here.”

 

Pepper sidles up next to them. “Tony, the flight plan has the plane leaving in a little over an hour.”

 

“Looks like that’s our cue,” Tony says. “You ready to blow this joint, Bruce?”

 

Bruce frowns. “Uh, sure.” He’s still not clear where they’re going; a lot of ideas had been floated around, and Tony had finally told Pepper to make the final plans and surprise them.

 

They make their way out of the ballroom, stopping to say goodbye to the rest of the team—other than Steve, who’s chatting with a pretty girl on the other side of the room.

 

“Nice to see that Steve can actually talk to women,” Tony murmurs.

 

Bruce grins. “He does okay with Natasha.”

 

“I’m not sure Steve knows she’s a woman,” Tony replies.

 

“Maria Hill?”

 

“Same,” Tony says. “If you haven’t noticed, Steve can’t hit on a woman to save his own life, but he can work with them.”

 

“I don’t think that’s a mark against him,” Bruce observes.

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “No, it’s evidence of the _giant stick up his ass_.”

 

Bruce smirks. “It’s really kind of sweet.”

 

Tony glares at him, clearly disgruntled, and Bruce chuckles.

 

“You’re giving me a hard time.”

 

“I couldn’t resist,” Bruce admits.

 

Tony laughs. “There’s hope for you yet, Banner.”

 

They climb into the limo, and Tony asks, “You ready for the honeymoon?”

 

Bruce snorts. “It’s not like we need one, you know.”

 

“Appearances,” Tony responds easily. “Besides, it’s a vacation. We’ll have fun.”

 

Bruce isn’t sure he even knows what fun is anymore. “If you say so,” he agrees.

 

“Well, now that’s just throwing down the gauntlet,” Tony says. “You’ll see. It’s going to be great.”

 

~~~~~

 

They could have gone anywhere in the world, of course, but the plane takes them to California, and when it lands at LAX, Tony knows Pepper still gets him better than just about anyone, and she understands his connection with Bruce.

 

Because there’s a particle accelerator there, and toys that Tony hasn’t yet managed to reproduce in Manhattan, mostly because there hasn’t been a need.

 

“Wait, you built a particle accelerator _in your basement_?” Bruce asks incredulously, reaching out to touch it and then snatching his hand back as though he’d been burned. He’s still wearing his wedding suit, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

 

“It’s not going to break,” Tony points out, amused. “And I was highly motivated at the time.”

 

“I guess,” Bruce murmurs. He glances over at Tony. “This is insane. You know that, right?”

 

“You keep saying that,” Tony replies with a smirk. “And yet what I keep hearing is _awesome_.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “You’d probably better show me the rest of the house now. Because I’m pretty sure I’m not going to leave the lab while we’re here.”

 

“First, we need to get into something more comfortable,” Tony says. “And then we need to order food. And _then_ , you can play with the new toys.”

 

By the time the pizza has arrived, Tony’s in a threadbare pair of jeans and his oldest, softest t-shirt, and Bruce has snagged a pair of Tony’s cargo pants and his faded Pink Floyd shirt. “You know, if you hadn’t stolen my old clothes, I wouldn’t have to borrow yours,” Bruce points out, although he doesn’t seem broken up.

 

“And why would I miss the chance to see you in my clothes?” Tony asks, snagging a piece of pizza from the box on the coffee table, and nudging Bruce’s thigh.

 

Bruce is slumped on the other end of the couch, looking more relaxed than Tony has ever seen him, and he laughs. “Can you believe we’re married? God, I can’t believe this day.”

 

Tony holds up his left hand. “Believe it. There’s the proof for you.”

 

“I actually _feel_ married,” Bruce says wonderingly. “I’m wearing your clothes.”

 

“Not for the first time,” Tony observes, taking a huge bite of pizza. “You tired?” he asks through a full mouth.

 

Bruce makes a face at him. “Exhausted, actually. It’s what? After midnight in New York?”

 

“Later than that,” Tony says. “It’s been a long day. We should probably go to bed.”

 

“I thought Tony Stark never slept,” Bruce teases.

 

Tony shrugs. “I sleep on occasion.”

 

Bruce swings his legs up onto the couch, tucking them between Tony’s legs and the back of the couch, and Tony counts it as a good sign that Bruce is so comfortable with the physical proximity. “I’m too comfortable to move,” he admits, licking his fingers free of grease.

 

“Then don’t,” Tony replies, bumping Bruce’s leg with his own.

 

Bruce’s eyes are already drifting shut, and he murmurs, “Wake me up in a couple of hours.”

 

Tony wraps a hand around Bruce’s ankle. “Sure,” he says. “Jarvis, keep the windows dark. We’re not to be disturbed.”

 

“Very good, sir,” Jarvis replies. “And may I offer my congratulations?”

 

“You may,” Tony says, closing his eyes, and drifting off, his hand still on Bruce’s leg.

 

He wakes up the next morning in the same position, Bruce still asleep on the other end of the couch, although he’s curled up on his side, one hand tucked under his chin, his hair in disarray. Tony feels a welling fondness for him, and an overwhelming possessiveness.

 

Bruce is _his_ now, and Tony plans on keeping it that way.

 

Tony gets the coffee started, and the scent rouses Bruce, bringing him into the kitchen. “So, you ready to play with the particle accelerator today, Big Guy?” Tony asks as he hands Bruce a cup of coffee.

 

“Shower first,” Bruce says. “But after that, the lab.”

 

They don’t leave the lab much, it’s true, although they go out for dinner a couple of times. Tony’s well aware that they need to be seen in public to cement the façade of a happily married couple on their honeymoon.

 

Well, not much of a façade, really. Tony is happy, and Bruce seems to be happy, and maybe Tony had never intended to get married, but partnering with Bruce feels right.

 

Tony knows he’s saved a lot of lives over the last couple of years, but it’s rarely this personal. The last time it had felt this personal had been with Yinsen, and Tony had failed that time; he’s not about to fail Bruce.

 

The first time they go out, it’s to a little hole-in-the-wall Lebanese place, and they manage to avoid the paparazzi altogether by some miracle. The second time, they go to a restaurant Tony’s often frequented in the past. The manager meets them at the door and leads them to a small table in the corner.

 

Bruce smiles wryly when he sees the lit candle and the chilling bottle of champagne. “Isn’t this romantic?” he murmurs once they’re alone.

 

“That’s the point,” Tony replies. “You know we’re going to face a lot of paparazzi when we leave.”

 

“Also the point,” Bruce admits. “What’s good here?”

 

“Everything,” Tony replies. “But they’ve got the best steak I’ve ever had.”

 

Bruce nods. “Okay, then.”

 

“How’s the work coming on isolating the effects from the particle collision?” Tony asks to get Bruce’s mind off the wall of photographers who are likely lining up outside.

 

Their waiter opens the bottle of champagne and takes their orders, and Tony keeps the conversation on science, and possible future projects for Stark Industries. The lines of tension in Bruce’s face relax, and he gets animated when he’s talking particle physics, gesturing to make a point, his gold ring glinting in the candlelight.

 

Tony’s pretty sure Bruce has forgotten all about the photographers until they step outside, when they hit a wall of flashbulbs. Bruce ducks his head, but he maintains his grip on Tony’s hand.

 

To Tony, Bruce just looks shy, like a man unused to the limelight. Tony entwines their fingers, grins, and flashes a peace sign before he accepts the keys of the convertible from the valet. They both ignore the questions shouted in their direction.

 

Bruce slumps against the seat in relief once they’re on the freeway back to the mansion, and the sound of the wind prevents any conversation until Tony pulls into the garage.

 

“You know, the whole point is for them to _take_ our pictures,” Tony points out quietly.

 

Bruce shrugs. “It’s weird. I can’t get used to people wanting pictures when they’re not trying to capture me.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, they’re trying to take pictures of _me_. You just happen to be my spouse,” Tony replies with a grin.

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Just happen, huh? You were the one who talked me into it.”

 

Tony slings an arm around Bruce’s shoulders as they head back to the workshop. “Admit it. You love being married to me.”

 

Bruce stays quiet for a long moment, looking pensive.

 

“Oh, come on,” Tony cajoles.

 

Bruce laughs. “Well, it doesn’t suck.”

 

“A ringing endorsement,” Tony says. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”

 

Bruce smirks. “You’re lucky I liked you enough to marry you.”

 

Tony smiles. “You know, I really am.”

 

Sincerity seems to disarm Bruce, because he suddenly looks flustered.  “I, uh.”

 

Tony grins triumphantly. “Come on,” he says. “We’ve got science to do.”


	7. Chapter 7

Happy meets them at JFK, taking their bags and putting them in the trunk. “Welcome back,” he says.

 

Laurel stands next to the car, tapping away on her Stark Phone. “Well done, both of you.”

 

“What did we do?” Tony asks.

 

“You’ve been declared America’s new power couple by _People_ , and the momentum is building,” Laurel replies, as they climb into the back of the limo. “That very romantic dinner was perfect.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony. “It was pretty romantic.”

 

“In any case, I’ve put a few things on your schedules. If you could be late to at least one of them, that would be great,” Laurel says.

 

“Why late?” Bruce asks.

 

Tony elbows him in the side. “Do you really have to ask?”

 

Bruce blushes, and Laurel’s grin widens. “You two are making my job much easier than I expected. Bruce, it will also help if you’re seen with the other Avengers, particularly Captain America. It adds another layer of protection.”

 

“Better Bruce than me,” Tony mutters.

 

“I like Steve,” Bruce says mildly.

 

Tony snorts. “Steve likes _you_. In point of fact, I think everybody likes you.”

 

“We live in a mad, mad world,” Bruce intones. And then he glances at Tony, and they both crack up.

 

Laurel shakes her head. “Pepper did warn me that I’d be babysitting a couple of mad scientists. Once we’re back at the Tower, we’ll go over your schedule for the next week, and then you’ll be free for the time being.”

 

Bruce suspects that Tony will chafe at someone telling him where to go and when, but Bruce doesn’t mind. It’s something of a relief to let someone else figure out what he needs to do to get Ross off his back.

 

He’s been alone so long, and on the run so long, he can’t quite believe he’s going to wake up here tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably the day after that.

 

Laurel, it seems, has the next month planned out for them, and she pulls up their calendars on the screen once they’re in the Penthouse, highlighting the important appointments. “How are your projects coming, Bruce?” she asks eventually.

 

 “Okay,” he replies uncertainly.

 

“Is there anything with a lot of public appeal? Something that the public would understand as having a lot of weight,” Laurel asks.

 

“I’m working on a biochemical process that will clean contaminated water cheaply,” Bruce offers.

 

Laurel beams. “Perfect. How close is it to being done?”

 

“It’s in the testing phase,” Bruce replies. “It’s probably about six months to a year from being ready.”

 

“Close enough,” Laurel declares. “It’s important to establish that you’re working in your own right. And, if you’re doing something that’s patently humanitarian, even better. What’s your favorite charity, Bruce?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m generally pro-philanthropy.”

 

“I’ll give you a list, and you can name your favorite,” Laurel replies. “Tony’s known for his philanthropy, so it’s important. I don’t have anything for you in the next week, but if you want to go out, just keep doing what you’re doing. There’s a gala dinner for the New York City firefighters and police department in a week and a half. You don’t have to stay long, but you need to make an appearance together.”

 

“Anything else?” Tony asks, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

 

Bruce puts a hand on Tony’s leg. “Hey, it’s not forever. It’s just to establish a precedent.”

 

Tony nods. “Go on.”

 

Laurel smiles. “No, I think that’s enough for the day. I’m sure you have things to do.” She gathers her things. “Welcome home, you two.”

 

When she’s gone, Tony turns to Bruce. “How does it feel being home?”

 

Bruce smiles. “A little surreal, to be honest.”

 

“You’ll get used to it,” Tony promises. “And surreal isn’t bad.”

 

“No,” Bruce agrees. “It’s not bad.”

 

~~~~~

 

Pepper gives them a day to settle back in, appearing the next morning in Tony’s lab. “Where’s Bruce?” she asks.

 

“I assume he’s in his lab,” Tony replies. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m taking you both out to brunch,” Pepper replies. “It’s Sunday, in case you’ve forgotten, and I have reservations.”

 

Tony grimaces. “We just got back.”

 

“Yes, and I need you to sign some things, and we need to talk about current projects,” Pepper replies. “And since Bruce is now a part of this, he needs to be there, too. Besides, it will help with the publicity.”

 

“What will help?” Bruce asks, entering the lab with a mug of tea.

 

“Brunch,” Pepper replies definitively. “You’re both coming.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re not in the way.”

 

“Bruce, you’re married to Tony, which means you’re contractually obligated to show up most places he is,” Pepper reminds him, with a smile that takes the sting out of her words.

 

Bruce ducks his head. “Do I need to change?”

 

“You’re fine,” Pepper says. “Both of you. Come on. You can do science later.”

 

Pepper has always been remarkably skilled at putting people at ease, and half an hour into brunch, Bruce’s shoulders are down and relaxed, and he’s smiling. Tony keeps an arm hooked around the back of Bruce’s chair, deliberately staking a claim, while Pepper sits across from them.

 

It should probably be awkward, Tony thinks, but it’s not, maybe because Pepper and Bruce seem to like each other, and Pepper’s still one of his oldest friends.

 

Once they’re through with business, Pepper starts teasing Tony about his upcoming birthday, and about the party that had ended with him eating a donut inside of a donut.

 

“No, I’m serious. It was all a misunderstanding,” Tony’s protesting. “And besides, I was dying at the time, so I really don’t think I can be held responsible for my actions.”

 

Bruce’s hand finds his knee under the table. “You know, palladium will kill you,” he says lightly, although his death grip on Tony’s leg tells a different tale.

 

“Yes, thank you, I figured that out,” Tony says sarcastically. “That was not even my most embarrassing moment.”

 

Bruce gives him a sly look. “Care to share?”

 

“Only if you show me yours first,” Tony challenges.

 

Bruce grimaces. “My most embarrassing stories generally wind up with me naked in a strange place, with bonus points if I don’t speak the language.”

 

Tony decides he needs to redirect the conversation. “Okay, most embarrassing moment before you became a superhero,” he says. “Pepper, you start.”

 

Pepper rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly trying to suppress a smile. “I’m not a superhero.”

 

“Running Stark Industries is a superpower—which I don’t really have,” Tony says candidly.

 

Pepper sighs. “I got locked out of my dorm room in college after taking a shower, and had to find someone to let me in wearing only a towel.”

 

“Boring,” Tony says. “But not surprising. Bruce?”

 

Bruce is turning a fascinating shade of red. “Well, there was the one time General Ross walked in on me in a compromising situation with Betty.”

 

Tony lets out a bark of laughter. “His daughter?”

 

“Yeah, that wasn’t my best moment,” Bruce admits.

 

“Your turn, Tony,” Pepper challenges.

 

Tony smiles. “I take it back. The birthday party was pretty much my most embarrassing moment.”

 

“Pre-superhero days, remember?” Bruce asks.

 

Tony winces, thinking fast. He can think of a few other occasions, but all of them involve him having sex with someone else, and he doesn’t want to talk about that in front of Pepper or Bruce. “Probably walking in on my parents. I was a teenager, home from MIT, and Dad had been gone for a while. They forgot to lock the door.”

 

Pepper and Bruce both grimace sympathetically. “I’ll give it to you,” Bruce replies, chuckling.

 

They finish brunch, and Pepper leaves to go do whatever it is she does on a Sunday afternoon.

 

“It’s a nice day,” Bruce says. “You want to walk back?”

 

Tony mentally calculates the distance and decides that three blocks is probably doable. “Sure.”

 

The noon sun is bright and hot as they meander back to the Tower with their shoulders occasionally brushing. If there are photographers around, they’re well hidden. The silence between them feels intimate and comfortable.

 

After a week of having no one’s company but their own, Tony’s a little surprised that he still craves Bruce’s companionship.

 

“I, uh, want to say thank you,” Bruce says as they approach the Tower.

 

Tony glances over at him. “Thank you for what?”

 

Bruce’s smile is a little shy, maybe a little self-conscious, but completely sincere. “For everything. For the last few weeks. It’s been good.”

 

Tony grins. “Yeah, it has been, hasn’t it? And it’s only going to get better.”

 

It’s a promise he means to keep.


	8. Chapter 8

Being married to Tony Stark still feels surreal a month later, although the ring Tony had given him stops feeling foreign on his finger after a couple of weeks, even if he often keeps it in his pocket when he’s working in the lab.

 

He gets used to the sheets with the insanely high thread count—Bruce hadn’t even been aware that sheets that nice existed—and the lab with its incredibly high tech equipment. And he’s getting used to having Tony around, too.

 

Tony, who touches Bruce like he’s never heard of personal space, who will purchase new pieces of equipment that Bruce casually mentions in a conversation.  Tony, who is the most brilliant, insane, captivating person Bruce has ever met.

 

Bruce is half in love with him. Well, more than half, but he’s trying not to think about that.

 

It helps that he’s up to his ears in projects, in work that keeps him interested and challenged, that he’s _good_ at. The work serves as a distraction, and gives Bruce something to talk about with Tony that stays away from the personal.

 

Bruce thinks he could be happy here.

 

Not that he trusts it. He doesn’t think he can keep it forever, but he’s learned to enjoy what he has in the moment.

 

Bruce hadn’t thought about how being married to Tony might change the dynamics of the Avengers Initiative until they’re both called on to deal with an emergency. Fury’s face fills the screen as he says, “Honeymoon is over, you two. You’re needed in D.C. Agent Barton is en route to pick you up. Stark, can he land on the Tower?”

 

“It’ll be tight fit, but it’s possible,” Tony replies.

 

Fury nods. “Barton will fill you in when he gets there. He’s about fifteen minutes out.”

 

“Better pack a change of clothes, Big Guy,” Tony says when Fury’s image disappears. “I’ll get suited up.”

 

Bruce grabs his duffel bag and throws in a spare change of clothes, remembering to grab another pair of socks, too. He glances down at the blue shirt he’s wearing and quickly changes out of it, opting for a plain white t-shirt instead, one he doesn’t have to worry about ruining.

 

When he heads out to the roof, Tony’s wearing the suit, although he has his helmet tucked under his arm. He smiles when he sees Bruce. “What happened to the blue shirt?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I like that shirt.”

 

“I’d be happy to buy you another one, you know,” Tony says.

 

“It was just as easy to change. I wish I always had this kind of warning,” Bruce replies.

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Does that make it easier?”

 

“Sometimes,” Bruce admits. “It’s easier when I don’t fight it.”

 

There’s the roar of an engine, and the Quinjet lands on the roof, with inches to spare. Tony leads the way, standing behind the co-pilot’s seat and putting his helmet on. Bruce sits down on the bench just behind Clint, who turns and greets them with a smirk. “How was the honeymoon?”

 

“Great, thanks for asking,” Tony replies, his voice sounding tinny through the helmet of the suit. “What are we looking at?”

 

“Giant bugs from outer space,” Clint replies. “Which is why we needed the Hulk. Quite frankly, I don’t think there’s a can of Raid big enough.”

 

Bruce shrugs philosophically, shoving his bag under the seat. “Not a problem, just as long as the Army doesn’t show up midway through.”

 

“Fury said the Army isn’t invited to this party, and he’ll make sure they know it,” Clint replies, his hands sure and steady on the controls.

 

“Good,” Tony says decisively. “We don’t need their help. And even if we did, we wouldn’t want it.”

 

Bruce privately agrees, although he doesn’t say anything other than to ask, “Where are the others?”

 

“Tasha and Cap were in D.C., and Thor’s probably already there, since he was flying himself in,” Clint replies.

 

“Let’s hope we’re not late to the party,” Tony replies. Lowering his voice, he says, “Might want to take your ring off, Bruce.”

 

Bruce glances down at his hand, surprised to see the ring. He’d forgotten he was wearing it. “Yeah. Thanks.” He tucks it into a zippered pocket inside the duffel.

 

Clint snorts from the pilot’s seat, and Bruce carefully avoids looking at him or Tony.

 

He knows he doesn’t have to wear the ring while he’s in the Tower, but he figures it’s a good habit to get into. That way, he won’t forget it by accident, inadvertently starting a wild rumor that there’s trouble in Paradise.

 

The ring might be part of the elaborate charade Tony insists will protect him, but pretending is starting to feel all too real.

 

Tony makes a sound, and Bruce looks up to see him staring through the view screen. Clint mutters something under his breath that sounds profane, and Bruce catches sight of what they must be reacting to.

 

Giant, alien bugs is about the only way Bruce knows how to describe them—with too many limbs, multifaceted, jewel toned eyes, looking a bit like six foot tall Praying Mantises.

 

For the first time in a long time, Bruce is grateful that he won’t have to face this, and that he can hide behind the Other Guy.

 

“Time to suit up,” Tony says as Clint sets the Quinjet down.

 

Bruce nods and toes off his shoes. “Ready.”

 

And then the doors are opening, and Bruce runs out, calling on his ever-present anger.

 

Transforming is easier when he’s not fighting it with every fiber of his being, but it’s still painful; it still feels as though every muscle, every bone, is being twisted, stretched to the breaking point, and then he’s lost in green-tinted rage. 

 

When he wakes, he aches all over, but someone has covered him with a blanket, and that’s new. Also new, he’s not on the ground, he’s on a padded bench, with something relatively soft under his head.

 

He groans, and hears Tony say, “There you are. How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I usually do,” Bruce admits. He blinks, seeing the roof of the Quinjet overhead, the lights dim. He feels sticky, and when he glances down, his bare skin is streaked with drying blue gunk. A glance at Tony reveals that Tony’s suit is in much the same state. “What is this?”

 

“Bug guts,” Tony explains succinctly. “The Other Guy was fairly enthusiastic about smashing them. I think he enjoyed the splatter.”

 

“Obviously,” Bruce replies. “How’d I get here?”

 

“Thor carried you,” Tony says. “They’re out doing cleanup. I thought I’d stick around. Your duffel is under the seat.”

 

Bruce grimaces at the idea of pulling on clean clothes when he’s this disgusting, and as though reading his mind, Tony says, “Sorry. A shower is going to have to wait until we’re home.”

 

“Yeah, I figured,” Bruce replies glumly.

 

Tony averts his eyes slightly, giving Bruce the illusion of privacy as he drags on pants over his bare legs and pulls on a t-shirt. He’s remembered to pack socks this time, and take off his shoes, so he’s soon completely dressed, and he slides on the ring last.

 

When he looks up, Tony is staring at him. “What?” Bruce asks. “Is this not okay?”

 

“No, it looks good on you,” Tony replies with a smile.

 

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “You just like everybody knowing I belong to you.”

 

“It makes a point,” Tony agrees. “And, yes. You’re brilliant and easy on the eyes. Why wouldn’t I?”

 

Bruce doesn’t bother pointing out that Tony’s insane for wanting him around. He’s made that point before, and Tony doesn’t seem to care. Clint climbs onboard, followed closely by Natasha, Steve, and Thor.

 

“Feeling better, doc?” Clint asks.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’m in one piece. Anybody hurt?”

 

“We are well,” Thor says, his voice pitched a bit lower than usual. “And you, my friend?”

 

“Good,” Bruce says. “Sticky.”

 

Natasha pauses on her way to the co-pilot’s seat and pulls a box of Wet Wipes from one of the compartments, handing it to Bruce. “You’ve got bug guts on your face,” she says helpfully.

 

Bruce frowns. “You keep Wet Wipes on the Quinjet?”

 

“You have no idea how often they come in handy,” Natasha says. “We never leave home without them.”

 

Bruce shrugs and scrubs his face with one, wincing when he sees the dirt, grime, and blue gunk that comes off. “Gross.”

 

Steve pulls his mask off. “Can I get one of those?”

 

Bruce grabs another one and hands the container to Steve, who copies Bruce’s example, and then Thor does the same, staring at the scrap of damp cloth. “This is marvelous!” Thor says.

 

Bruce catches Steve’s eye, and they both grin, as does Tony. “The marvels of the modern world,” Steve says wryly.

 

“This is why we don’t leave home without them,” Natasha says from the co-pilot’s seat.

 

“Never underestimate the power of the Wet Wipe, particularly when you don’t have access to running water,” Clint adds.

 

“You hungry?” Tony asks Bruce.

 

“Starving,” Bruce says fervently. He’s always hungry after a transformation, his stomach gnawing on his backbone, as his aunt might have said.

 

“Me, too,” Steve says, almost wistfully.

 

Thor seems to perk up at that. “I am also hungry. A battle always gives me a hearty appetite.”

 

Tony sighs. “Clint? Natasha? Are you up for a team dinner?”

 

“As long as it involves a shower,” Natasha replies.

 

“Same,” Clint echoes.

 

“Showers and food for everybody,” Tony agrees. “But I can’t promise clean clothes.”

 

“Got those,” Clint replies. “Being a SHIELD agent is a little like being a Boy Scout: we always come prepared.”

 

Steve shrugs. “I do, too, since I was in town for a meeting.”

 

“I do not,” Thor admits, sounding a bit dejected.

 

“I’m sure I can find something,” Tony says. “Actually, let me call Jarvis. We’ll make arrangements.”

 

The trip back to the Tower is relatively quick, and mostly quiet, since everybody’s still coming down off the adrenalin rush. Bruce doesn’t even mind having the rest of the team come back to the Tower with them.

 

In fact, it feels cozy to take a shower in Tony’s bathroom, since Clint and Natasha are using the one in Bruce’s room. Tony graciously lets him take the first shower, and Bruce is thankful that the alien bug guts don’t leave a stain. He’d been a little worried about that, more worried than he wants to admit. He has no desire to be blue-streaked.

 

He collapses on the bed after he drags on his most comfortable pair of khakis and his softest t-shirt, and he’s nearly asleep when Tony emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing only a towel.

 

“Hey,” Bruce says sleepily.

 

“Hey, yourself,” Tony replies, rummaging in his drawer, and then dropping his towel.

 

Bruce doesn’t look away; he’s enjoying the view too much. “You don’t mind them being here, do you?”

 

“Oddly enough, no, not for the most part,” Tony admits, pulling on a pair of boxers. “Granted, I prefer to have you to myself, but I can share for a little while.”

 

“Thanks,” Bruce says.

 

Tony clears his throat. “If they stay here tonight—you want to sleep with me?”

 

Bruce blinks. “What?”

 

“Well, I have a few rooms for guests, but there aren’t many that are ready,” Tony points out, although he looks a little shifty. “Yours is one of them.”

 

Bruce suspects that Tony could come up with other, adequate accommodations without kicking Bruce out of his room, but he’s also not opposed to sharing a bed with Tony.

 

He just wishes they could do more than sleep.

 

“No big deal,” Bruce assures him. “Whatever works best.”

 

Tony grins at him. “Great. So, I’m thinking Chinese.”

 

Tony orders, and pays for, enough food to feed an army—although between Bruce, Steve, and Thor, they make a big dent in it. The others eat their fair share, so there aren’t a lot of leftovers, but it’s late by the time they finish, late enough that everyone agrees to stay the night.

 

Bruce follows Tony back to his bedroom and stands just inside the doorway, staring at the bed. “I can sleep on the couch, if you’d rather,” he offers.

 

“I think it’s what you’d prefer,” Tony replies. “It’s a big bed, Bruce. We can be grownups about this.”

 

 _You can_ , Bruce thinks, but he pulls off his t-shirt and takes off his pants, crawling into the other side of the bed from Tony.

 

It’s been a long time since he’s shared a bed, but it’s big enough that he barely knows anyone is in there with him, although he can see the faint glow of the arc reactor through the thin sheet. Maybe it should have been difficult to fall asleep with Tony there, especially with the faint glow, but it’s comforting, almost like a nightlight for a small child.

 

Bruce faces Tony, the events of the day catching up to him, dragging him down to sleep, and he’s nearly content.


	9. Chapter 9

The thing is, Tony still would have asked Bruce to marry him, even if he’d believed that Bruce was straight and definitely not attracted to him. He’d looked at marriage as a long-term business partnership, and felt any sacrifices he might make were well worth it—and if he really wanted sex, there were discreet ways he could go about getting it.

 

But knowing how long Bruce’s dry spell has lasted, and knowing that Bruce isn’t disinterested, Tony has made it his mission in life to get Bruce to sleep with him.

 

After all, Tony has always liked a challenge, and Bruce presents one on a daily basis.

 

Bruce might believe that he can’t have sex, but Tony believes nothing is impossible; some rules are made to be broken, and this is definitely one of them.

 

It’s not just about what Tony wants—although Tony wants Bruce on a variety of levels—but the expression on Bruce’s face when he said it had been too fucking long means that Bruce isn’t happy with the status quo.

 

Over the last couple of months, Tony has developed a theory. He’s pretty sure that Bruce hasn’t had much in the way of human contact since the Hulk, and that he needs to get used to having someone touch him just because before they move on to touching with intent. To that end, Tony has been invading Bruce’s personal space with a hand on his back, on his arm, wrapped around his wrist.

 

And it’s been _working_. Bruce is far more relaxed in his company than he had been when he’d turned up on Tony’s doorstep a few months ago.

 

Tony can’t explain why it’s so important to him, except that he thinks it’s a damn shame that Bruce has gone so long without any kind of fun, and he wants Bruce to be happy.

 

Phase One had been convincing Bruce to stick around; Phase Two had been getting Bruce comfortable with physical contact. And now, the team showing up gives Tony the perfect opportunity to put the next phase of his plan into action.

 

When Tony wakes, the space between them has shrunk over the course of the night, thereby proving Tony’s initial theory. Bruce is curled up right next to Tony’s sprawl, his breath puffing warm against Tony’s bare arm, his hand resting on Tony’s chest just touching the arc reactor.

 

Tony is pondering his next move when Bruce stirs, and Tony can see the tension flood him. “Hey, it’s okay,” he insists, putting his hand over Bruce’s before he can withdraw.

 

Bruce is stiff and unyielding under Tony’s hand for a long moment, and then he relaxes all at once. “You’re playing with fire,” he warns, but his voice is still fuzzy with sleep, and he doesn’t seem terribly concerned.

 

“I’m working out a hypothesis,” Tony counters. “Trust me, we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

 

“Wanting isn’t exactly the problem,” Bruce murmurs, his thumb sweeping the edge of the arc reactor, confirming Tony’s theory.

 

“Then we won’t do anything that’s going to result in the Other Guy making an appearance,” Tony replies. “Relax.” And he frees his other hand to run his fingers through Bruce’s hair. “It’s early yet. Go back to sleep.”

 

“Only if you do the same,” Bruce replies, his words already indistinct.

 

Tony’s not sleepy, but he has no intention of moving.

 

After a couple of hours, Tony has to extricate himself, eliciting a wordless complaint from Bruce, although he goes right back to sleep.

 

Tony grins. He loves it when a plan comes together.

 

He pulls on clean clothes and emerges to find Steve and Thor already in the kitchen, with Steve rummaging in the fridge. Thor is already cleaning out one of the takeout boxes while Steve pulls out a carton of eggs.

 

“I can call for something,” Tony says.

 

“I can make breakfast,” Steve replies. “You provided dinner.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Don’t let me stop you then. Thor? You sleep okay?”

 

“Your bed is most comfortable,” Thor replies. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

 

“No problem, stay as long as you like,” Tony invites. “You too, Steve.”

 

Steve looks a little surprised. “I don’t want to intrude.”

 

“I’ll kick you out if you outstay your welcome,” Tony says.

 

As far as he’s concerned, anything that will keep Bruce in his bed is okay by him, at least until sharing has become a habit.

 

Natasha strolls out just as Steve’s finishing the first batch of pancakes. “Is that breakfast?” she asks.

 

“It can be,” Steve replies. “Hungry?”

 

She hums in agreement. “Clint will be, too.”

 

“No problem,” Steve replies. “There’s plenty.”

 

“Where’s Bruce?” Natasha asks.

 

“Still sleeping.” Tony pours another cup of coffee. “Transforming really takes it out of him.”

 

Steve ladles out more batter. “Is the plan working?”

 

For a moment, Tony isn’t certain which plan Steve is talking about—he’s pretty sure Steve has no idea that Tony is trying to seduce Bruce—and then he realizes Steve’s referring to the original plan, getting the Army off Bruce’s back.

 

“So far, so good,” Tony replies. “Which reminds me—Jarvis, what’s the news coverage like on our excursion yesterday?”

 

“Quite good, sir,” Jarvis says, and the screen on one side of the room lights up. “They have been particularly complimentary of Dr. Banner.”

 

Tony watches the footage of the Hulk jumping gleefully on a giant insect with the voiceover from the reporter saying, “It appears that the creature known as the Hulk destroyed many of the invaders. As you probably already know, the Hulk is the alter ego for Dr. Bruce Banner. Banner, of course, is probably most famous for having married Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, two months ago. Talk about an office romance!”

 

Tony hears the sound of a throat being cleared. “I’m surprised they didn’t go for the obvious joke,” Bruce observes from the doorway, wearing a good-natured grin.

 

Tony smiles. “And what joke would that be?”

 

“Probably something about your first domestic dispute,” Clint says from behind Bruce. “Do I smell breakfast?”

 

“Pancakes okay?” Steve calls.

 

“Great,” Clint replies. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

 

“I learned out of self-defense,” Steve says. “Bruce?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “Same, if there’s enough.”

 

“I’ll whip up another batch,” Steve replies, and Tony pours another couple of cups of coffee, and then starts another pot.

 

Breakfast is curiously comfortable, and Tony’s grateful for the presence of the rest of the team, mostly because it means that there are others who have an interest in keeping Bruce safe.

 

Maybe Fury can’t do anything about Ross, but he doesn’t think the Avengers will have the same concern about bureaucratic red tape if it comes right down to it.

 

“So, who’s staying?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shoots him a curious look.

 

“Aren’t you two supposed to still be in your honeymoon phase?” Clint asks.

 

“Oh, we are,” Tony insists.

 

“I’ll probably head home after this,” Steve replies. “But thanks for the offer.”

 

Natasha exchanges a look with Clint, and says, “We’re in New York for a few days, so if you don’t mind—”

 

“We’ve got plenty of room,” Tony says grandly.

 

“I will stay as well,” Thor promises. “Jane has mentioned that she may join me.”

 

“The more the merrier,” Tony replies.

 

Bruce still wears a puzzled frown, but he doesn’t say anything until they’re in Tony’s lab. “Is this about getting me to share a bed with you?” he demands.

 

Tony does his best to look innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Bruce snorts. “Like I’m going to believe _that_. You could just ask, you know.”

 

“Would you have said yes?”

 

Bruce sighs. “Probably not. It’s a bad idea.”

 

“No, it’s a _great_ idea,” Tony counters. “You’ll see. I have the best ideas.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning when he shakes his head. “I guess we’ll see.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Bruce emerges from Tony’s lab that afternoon, he discovers the rest of the team still in the living area, including Steve. “Hey, guys,” he says. “What’s up?”

 

“We’ve been introducing Steve to important aspects of current pop culture,” Clint replies from one corner of the couch. Natasha is curled up next to him, her head on his chest and her legs tangled with his.

 

Bruce glances at the screen. “Harry Potter?”

 

“He is brave and true for one so young,” Thor replies. “It’s most enjoyable.”

 

Laurel comes out from the direction of the bathroom, her feet bare, her suit jacket nowhere to be seen, and her shirt untucked. “Oh, hi, Bruce.”

 

“Hi,” Bruce replies, a little surprised to see her. “I didn’t know you were here.”

 

She looks a little embarrassed. “I got here an hour ago, when they were just starting the movie, and it wasn’t urgent.”

 

Bruce frowns and realizes that Steve is blushing just slightly, looking anywhere but at Laurel, and Clint and Natasha wear identical smirks. “You’re welcome to stick around,” Bruce invites. “We’ll probably order in.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she protests.

 

“No intrusion,” Bruce insists, plopping down in a free chair. “We’ll give Tony some time, and then we’ll call for food.”

 

He’s never seen any of the Harry Potter movies all the way through, and he’s still tired from the previous day’s exertions, so he lets the story wash over him, his head tipped back against the chair cushion.

 

Tony emerges about fifteen minutes before the movie ends, and he sprawls at Bruce’s feet, wrapping a hand around Bruce’s ankle, his head resting against Bruce’s thigh.

 

Bruce swallows hard and rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and then dares to rub small circles on the back of Tony’s neck.

 

Tony squeezes Bruce’s leg in response, and Bruce feels a rising warmth. “So, food?” Tony asks. “Anybody hungry?”

 

Bruce has to give it to Tony; when he decides to host people, he’s very good at it, and he doesn’t blink at finding Steve and Laurel there.

 

There are murmurs of assent from the others, and Laurel says, “I just need a moment of your time, really, and Steve’s.”

 

Steve flushes again, and Bruce can feel Tony perk up. “You know, Laurel, I’ll bet Steve would have no problem giving you a few hours of his time. Days, even.”

 

Bruce smacks Tony upside the back of his head—but gently. “We’re all yours.”

 

Steve is looking anywhere but at Laurel, and Bruce can feel Tony’s barely restrained glee. “I’m sure that Steve wouldn’t mind being all yours.”

 

Bruce gives Tony’s neck a nearly vicious squeeze. “ _Tony_.”

 

“I kid,” Tony says, completely unrepentantly.

 

Steve is a deep shade of red, and Laurel is glaring at him. “You’ve seen me at my best, Mr. Stark. Don’t bring out my worst.”

 

Clint and Natasha aren’t bothering to hide their snickers, Thor looks a little confused, Steve refuses to meet anybody’s eyes, and Bruce quickly puts a hand over Tony’s mouth. “I think Tony understands,” he says, ignoring the feeling of Tony’s tongue against his fingers.

 

Laurel nods. “Apology accepted. Now, I have a plan for Steve and Bruce to make a trip to St. Jude’s. Since Bruce is working on radiation treatments, it makes sense for him to appear.”

 

“I’m not sure what St. Jude’s is,” Steve says, apparently having recovered from his embarrassment.

 

“It’s a research hospital for cancer patients, primarily for children,” Laurel explains.

 

“You haven’t seen the commercials yet?” Clint asks incredulously.

 

Steve shrugs. “I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

 

Tony bristles. “When is this?”

 

“A week from now, and it’s just for a morning and part of the afternoon,” Laurel says evenly. “I’ll have your husband back in a day, unless Bruce wants to stay longer.”

 

Tony sniffs. “I can send my jet.”

 

“That would make things easier,” Laurel replies. “Thank you.”

 

Bruce suspects that had been her idea all along, and he doesn’t really mind Tony’s obvious possessiveness. “I’d be happy to make the visit,” Bruce says.

 

“Me, too,” Steve says. “I know what it’s like to be a sick kid.”

 

The room falls silent, and Tony finally rubs his hands together. “All right, I think food is in order. Italian okay for everybody?”

 

Tony clambers to his feet, but he puts his hands all over Bruce as he does. He uses Bruce’s leg to push himself to his feet, and then his hand drags up his leg, brushes his crotch, and presses Bruce’s shoulder.

 

Since Tony could have ordered food from his spot on the floor, Bruce figures it’s all on purpose.

 

“Any requests?” Tony calls.

 

“Whatever,” is the general response.

 

Bruce glances at Laurel. “You should stay,” he says, because he likes her, and he likes Steve, and if he can’t get laid, he’ll make sure someone else has the chance.

 

“Stay,” Steve urges shyly, and Laurel nods.

 

“Okay,” she agrees.

 

And Bruce counts it as a job well done.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony doesn’t normally like to share, but he’ll do it when it’s a means to an end, and having houseguests provides an excellent excuse to continue getting Bruce acclimated. Bruce doesn’t even offer a protest when they go to bed that night.

 

Well, not much of one, anyway.

 

“This is weird, right?” Bruce asks.

 

Tony nearly replies that what’s weird is that they aren’t having sex, but he refrains, not wanting to make Bruce feel self-conscious. “This is definitely not weird,” he says. “This is us being good hosts.”

 

“You know, I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to get me into bed with you,” Bruce jokes, and Tony counts that as a good sign.

 

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “But they say good things come to those who wait.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Like you would know. You’re not the most patient of men.”

 

“True,” Tony replies. “But I feel the waiting is justified under the circumstances.”

 

Bruce ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck, and Tony files that away. He wonders how extravagant he can make his compliments before Bruce just can’t stand it.

 

Tony doesn’t hide the fact that he’s watching Bruce get undressed, nor does he hide his interest. Bruce returns the looks, although he’s less obvious about it, and he doesn’t leave quite as much space between them this time.

 

It’s definitely progress, and Tony is grateful that he’d invited the others to stay. A week might be just enough time to get Bruce into the habit of sharing Tony’s bed.

 

Bruce is awake and out of bed before Tony the next morning, but when Tony wanders out to his lab, he finds Bruce already there.

 

“I thought we might be able to make some progress on the modifications for the arc reactor,” Bruce offers. “And I had an idea for the microbial scrubbers we discussed.”

 

Tony decides to test a theory. “You know, there’s no one I’d rather do science with.”

 

Bruce looks flustered, and then says, “Same here.”

 

Tony makes sure to keep in near constant contact with Bruce as long as he’s in Tony’s lab, and he keeps it up, although he stops short of propositioning him. He doesn’t think Bruce is quite ready for that yet.

 

Jane arrives in New York City the next day, and she and Thor go out on the town, while Clint and Natasha do whatever it is spies do on their downtime. But they all use the Tower as a home base, and while Tony could have figured out a way to open more rooms so that Bruce could go back to his own bed, he doesn’t bother.

 

Bruce doesn’t protest, though, and he seems more and more comfortable around Tony, and Tony figures that they’re that much closer to the goal.

 

A week later, the morning after everybody leaves, Bruce is scheduled to go to St. Jude’s, and he’s up well before he has to catch his flight. Unlike Tony, Bruce doesn’t believe that having a private jet means the airplane leaves when he wants. He actually likes to be on time.

 

Although Tony knows Bruce is scheduled to return that night, he still feels a little bereft. Even when they work separately, Tony’s become used to wandering into Bruce’s lab any time he wants and finding Bruce here.

 

A few hours before Bruce is supposed to return, Pepper texts him: _Turn on CNN._

 

“Jarvis, turn on CNN,” Tony orders.

 

The screen turns on in the middle of a sentence. “…very welcome visitors. Sally?”

 

“Captain Steve Rogers and Dr. Bruce Banner are making dreams come true at St. Jude’s Research Hospital here in Tennessee,” the anchor says. “Although Rogers is better known as Captain America, and Dr. Banner is as well known for his alter ego—the Hulk—as he is his marriage to billionaire Tony Stark, they’re both familiar to the children here, who are getting visits from their heroes.”

 

Tony watches as the footage changes from an exterior shot of the hospital to film of Steve and Bruce standing next to one girl’s bed. There’s no audio of what they’re saying, but Steve says something that makes Bruce smile, and the little girl laughs.

 

“Dr. Banner has been expanding his groundbreaking research into gamma radiation to include treatments for rare forms of cancer, like those suffered by children at St. Jude’s,” the anchor continues. “He’s credited Mr. Stark for allowing him to focus on research that will benefit everyone, regardless of their ability to pay.”

 

The screen goes to a close-up of Bruce, who looks a little uncomfortable, probably because he doesn’t like to be on camera, and Tony can see Laurel off in the background. “Tony has been very encouraging about my research into lifesaving cancer treatments. He’s put his considerable resources to work making the world a better place, both as Iron Man, and in his day job.”

 

“Is that what drew you to him?” the anchor asks from off screen.

 

Bruce laughs a little bit. “Honestly, he was the first person in a long time who accepted me from the first moment we met. And he’s a very easy person to love.”

 

“Not everyone would say that,” the anchor replies.

 

Bruce’s smile turns into a smirk. “Then I guess I should be grateful for that, since I’m the person he married.”

 

Tony has no idea how much of that is put on for the cameras, but he _knows_ Bruce, and that felt sincere to him.

 

The camera goes to Steve after that, and Tony turns off the TV, not particularly caring what Steve has to say.

 

Pepper calls him a few minutes later. “Did you see?”

 

“I did,” Tony replies. “He did good.”

 

“He’s in love with you,” Pepper replies severely. “Head over heels in love with you.”

 

Tony feels a warmth that can’t be easily explained. “I’m aware, and I won’t hurt him,” he promises. “I mean to keep him.”

 

It’s as much as he can say at the moment, but Pepper seems to understand. “Good. Tell him hi from me when he gets home.”

 

“Of course,” Tony replies, and realizes that what Pepper had said is entirely accurate.

 

In a few hours, Bruce will be _home_ —and the Tower is definitely not the same without him.

 

~~~~~

 

It’s late before Bruce gets back to New York City. He’s exhausted, but he also feels energized, and not a little embarrassed at the attention he’d received from the kids and the press. All of the kids had been thrilled to meet Captain America, but most of them had been just as excited to see Bruce.

 

Bruce had thought it was just because of his connection to Iron Man until a couple of kids had clamored to see the Other Guy.

 

Although it probably hadn’t hurt that Laurel had made sure to have plenty of Iron Man action figures to hand out.

 

But the press had essentially fallen all over themselves, calling Bruce a humanitarian, asking what it was like to be married to Tony Stark, asking what their future plans were, and a few other questions that Bruce had deliberately ignored.

 

Really, he has no idea why anyone would think he’d answer a question about his sex life.

 

The hired car pulls up in front of the Tower, and Laurel says, “You did a great job today, Bruce. The publicity from this visit is only going to help us.”

 

Bruce smiles wearily. “Thanks. I actually had a good time.”

 

“Another charity event like that would probably be good,” Laurel replies. “Although probably with you and Tony together.”

 

Bruce nods. “Sure.”

 

While Bruce knows that the point of this is to convince the world that he and Tony are desperately in love, but he still feels as though he’d given away too much. It’s one thing to tell the world they’re married; it’s something else for Tony to know how Bruce feels about him.

 

Once Bruce is on the private elevator, he asks, “Jarvis, where is Tony?”

 

“He’s in his workshop, Dr. Banner,” Jarvis informs him. “Shall I tell him you’re home?”

 

Bruce smiles faintly, liking the sound of that—being home. “That’s fine, Jarvis. Tell him I’m going to bed, okay?”

 

“I should inform you that your usual room has not yet been cleaned,” Jarvis says.

 

Bruce chuckles. “Figures. Thanks for the warning.”

 

He’s tired enough to go to bed immediately, waking briefly when he feels the mattress sag. “Tony?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Tony replies, running a hand down his back. “I’m thinking I should fire Laurel.”

 

Bruce props himself up on his elbow, alarmed. “Why?”

 

“Because I could let you do my publicity from now on,” Tony teases. “I don’t think anybody’s ever said so many nice things about me.”

 

Bruce falls back on the bed. “I meant what I said.”

 

“I know that,” Tony replies, touching Bruce’s cheek. “I want to try something.”

 

Bruce groans. “I’m tired, Tony.”

 

“This doesn’t require moving on your part,” Tony assures him. “Just—”

 

Bruce probably should have been expecting it, but when Tony’s lips press against his, he’s too shocked to respond right away.

 

“Not okay?” Tony asks, pulling back slightly.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, it’s—it’s good. I was just surprised.”

 

“Keep up, Banner,” Tony advises him, and leans back in for another kiss. He keeps it light, undemanding.

 

Bruce wants nothing more than to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t trust himself to stop, and he knows better.

 

He breaks off the kiss and says regretfully, “I can’t. Tony—”

 

“Did I tell you about my theory?” Tony asks lightly.

 

Bruce frowns. “You said you were working out a hypothesis.”

 

“So, last time you tried to have sex, how long had you gone without?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce knows Tony well enough to realize it’s not the non sequitur it seems. He hitches a shoulder. “A while.”

 

“Months, years?” Tony presses.

 

“Years,” Bruce admits wearily. “Like five years.”

 

“So, I think it’s safe to say that any human contact was probably fairly exciting, and you didn’t have the control then that you have now,” Tony replies.

 

Bruce nods. “Yeah, but—oh. Repeated exposure to a stimulus means reduced reaction.”

 

“Normally, that’s not what I would be going for in a sexual encounter, but in your case, I think we’d better,” Tony replies, carding his fingers through Bruce’s hair.

 

“So, what?” Bruce asks. “There are easier ways for you to get sex, Tony.”

 

Tony smirks at him. “First, I like a challenge. Second, I want to have sex with _you_. And third, I think it’s a crime that you haven’t been laid in years.”

 

Bruce looks at him skeptically. “And when I’m not a challenge anymore?”

 

“I have a feeling you’re always going to be a challenge,” Tony says with a grin. “Besides, smart is sexy, and you’re the smartest person I know—other than me.”

 

Bruce rubs his eyes, but he knows Tony well enough by now to know when he’s not going to be dissuaded. Besides, he wants this; he wants Tony. “I’ll try.”

 

“That’s all I ask,” Tony replies, and kisses Bruce again, a little more deeply this time. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy, you know.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Good night, Tony.”

 

Tony grins unrepentantly. “Sleep well.”

 

And somehow, Bruce does.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony’s plan seems to be working. Casual touches, sweet, brief kisses—Tony is using every ounce of fortitude he possesses not to rush things.

 

He’s grown to understand Bruce quite well over the last months, and he knows that one failure—if Bruce even gets close to a transformation, Tony will have to work twice as hard to convince Bruce to try again.

 

So, Tony is going to go slow, because he’s not willing to risk losing the ground he’s gained, and he’s definitely not going to risk Bruce running again.

 

A few days after Bruce gets back from his trip with Steve, Tony gets a call from Rhodey. “I can’t believe you actually got married.”

 

“Hey, I tried to call you,” Tony says defensively. “It’s not my fault you were on a top secret mission and couldn’t get away.”

 

“You couldn’t have waited?” Rhodey asks.

 

Tony frowns. “No, I couldn’t have. Time was of the essence, like I said in my message. I’m sorry, but Ross was on his tail, and I had to make sure he was protected.”

 

“By getting married,” Rhodey says dubiously.

 

“By making him famous,” Tony says. “And by making sure Ross knows he has to go through me first.”

 

Rhodey sighs. “I’m beginning to think that the only person crazier than Ross is you.”

 

“You know of him, then?” Tony asks.

 

“Everybody’s heard of Thunderbolt Ross and his obsession with the Hulk,” Rhodey replies. “That’s been the scuttlebutt for years.”

 

“And no one’s tried to stop him?” Tony demands.

 

“The Hulk is a menace.”

 

“Bruce is my husband,” Tony counters, his voice sharp. “And I made an oath for better or for worse. If you’ve seen the news footage, you know that the Hulk can be used for better.”

 

“All right, Tony,” Rhodey replies, his tone placating. “Am I going to get to meet him?”

 

Tony huffs. “I don’t know. Can you be nice?”

 

“You’re really hung up on this guy, aren’t you?” Rhodey asks, something akin to wonder in his voice. “Pepper said you were.”

 

Rhodey’s his oldest friend, and Tony doesn’t want to lie to him. “He’s my partner. He’s essential.”

 

“All right then,” Rhodey says. “I get it.”

 

“And you’ll be nice?” Tony asks suspiciously. “He’s a little wary of the military, as you can imagine.”

 

“I’m on leave,” Rhodey assures him, “and I don’t have any interest in Dr. Banner except to meet my best friend’s husband.”

 

Tony breathes a sigh of relief. He wants Rhodey to meet Bruce, but he suspects that Bruce isn’t going to be real keen on the idea of having dinner with a military officer. “Thanks, Rhodey. You’re going to love him.”

 

“Well, anybody crazy enough to marry you is someone I want to meet,” Rhodey replies. “Tonight?”

 

“Sure, we’ll go out,” Tony promises, privately thinking it’s probably a good idea not to give Bruce too much time to fret. “I’ll make reservations somewhere. We can meet at the Tower around seven.”

 

“See you then,” Rhodey replies.

 

Tony heads from his lab to Bruce’s, where he’s working on a series of equations on one of the large screens, apparently sifting through the data from a simulation on particle collisions. He only knows what it is because Bruce had mentioned the success of the simulation the day before.

 

“Hey there,” Tony says.

 

Bruce turns and smiles at him warmly. “Hey yourself. What’s up?”

 

“I can’t say hello to my husband?” Tony asks, pressing a brief kiss to Bruce’s lips.

 

“You can,” Bruce agrees. “But I know that look on your face, and something is up.”

 

Tony smiles ruefully. “You may know me too well.”

 

“Not a chance,” Bruce replies. “So, what is it?”

 

“I need a favor,” Tony says.

 

Bruce’s expression turns wary, but he nods. “You know I’d do just about anything for you.”

 

“My friend Rhodey is going to be in town,” Tony begins. “I said we’d have dinner with him tonight.”

 

Bruce stiffens. “Rhodey, as in Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force?”

 

“You’ve heard of him, then,” Tony jokes. “That will thrill him.”

 

Bruce frowns. “ _You’ve_ talked about him. He’s your best friend.”

 

“Well, yes, other than _you_ ,” Tony counters. “I want you to meet him.”

 

“He’s military,” Bruce says flatly.

 

Tony grips Bruce’s shoulder. “Hey, I would _never_ risk you, okay? He’s on leave, and he doesn’t have orders to bring you in, so there’s no conflict. This is just a meet and greet.”

 

Bruce looks down. “Okay.”

 

“If it’s a choice between you and him, it’s going to be you,” Tony assures him, reaching out to touch the ring on Bruce’s finger. “That should be all the reminder you need.”

 

“He’s your oldest friend,” Bruce objects, meeting Tony’s eyes again. “I know what kind of weight that holds.”

 

“You’re forgetting something,” Tony says. “I didn’t ask Rhodey to marry me.”

 

Bruce chuckles, although the sound doesn’t hold much humor. “I hope you don’t expect the evening to go well.”

 

“We’ll have dinner, drinks, and then we’ll see,” Tony replies. “I just want you to meet him; you don’t have to like him or trust him. Just trust that I’m going to protect you.”

 

“I know you’ll do your best,” Bruce replies.

 

Tony can’t fault Bruce for being nervous, and he knows he can’t provide much reassurance until Bruce sees for himself that there’s nothing to worry about.

 

And really, given Bruce’s previous experience with the military, Tony can’t blame him.

 

Tony slings an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, and presses his forehead to the top of Bruce’s head.

 

“What time’s dinner?” Bruce asks after a minute, his voice muffled against Tony’s t-shirt.

 

“Seven,” he says. “If things get too weird, I’ll get you out of there.”

 

Bruce heaves a sigh. “Okay.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I cannot believe I’m letting Tony talk me into this,” Bruce mutters, fumbling with his dark blue tie. He’s in his old room, because he still hasn’t moved all of his stuff, even though he’s sleeping in Tony’s room every night.

 

Bruce isn’t really a fan of ties, but he feels the need to arm himself. No matter what reassurances Tony had offered, Bruce isn’t terribly hopeful about this dinner.

 

At the end of the day, Rhodes is a military officer, and is likely to view Bruce—or at least the Other Guy—as a loose cannon, which means Bruce isn’t going to be able to trust him in this lifetime.

 

There’s a brief knock on the door, and Tony sticks his head in. “You ready to head down?”

 

“Just a sec,” Bruce says absently.

 

Tony enters the room, turning Bruce around and grabbing the loose ends of his tie. “You don’t have to wear one of these, you know.”

 

“You are,” Bruce points out, giving Tony’s dark suit, crimson shirt, and striped tie a pointed look.

 

Tony’s expression is the equivalent of a shrug. “I wear them all the time. You don’t strike me as a tie kind of guy.”

 

“Special occasion,” Bruce counters, watching Tony’s face as he knots Bruce’s tie.

 

Tony slides up the knot, but doesn’t tighten it. Instead, he unbuttons the top button of Bruce’s blue shirt. “We’re not that formal.”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce says, glancing down at Tony’s left hand where it rests on his chest, noting that Tony’s wearing his ring. “I’m good.”

 

Tony leans in for a long, heated kiss, and Bruce relaxes a bit at the reminder that they’re together. He hooks a couple of fingers through Tony’s belt loops, and pulls Tony closer.

 

Tony’s hands cup Bruce’s face, and then he cards a hand through Bruce’s hair. “Much as I’d like to finish this, we do have an appointment, and Rhodey hates it when I’m late.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath. “Right.”

 

“Things get weird, give me the signal, and we’ll leave,” Tony promises.

 

“So you said,” Bruce replies. “Let’s get going.”

 

Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes is waiting for them in the lobby when they step out of the elevator, dressed in slacks, a dress shirt, and a leather jacket. “Tony, long time no see,” Rhodes says, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him into a hug. “Good to see you, man.”

 

“You too,” Tony replies warmly. “It’s been too long.” He pulls back, keeping one hand on Rhodes’ shoulder. “Rhodey, this is Bruce. Bruce, Rhodey.”

 

There’s no way Bruce is going to call him “Rhodey,” but if he plays his cards right, Bruce won’t have to call him anything. “Nice to meet you,” he manages, shaking Rhodes’ hand.

 

“It’s nice to finally meet the person who talked Tony down the aisle,” Rhodes replies, briefly shaking Bruce’s hand.

 

Bruce wonders if he’s imagining the fact that when Rhodes says “talked” it sounds a lot like “tricked.” “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Bruce replies.

 

“Funny, I haven’t heard anything about you,” Rhodes counters.

 

Bruce decides to rise to the challenge. “I highly doubt that.”

 

Tony releases Rhodes and angles his body between them. “All right, what do you say we get some dinner?”

 

Happy drives them, and he greets Rhodes with an enthusiasm that doesn’t make Bruce feel any better.

 

Rhodes has a hold on Tony that Bruce can’t hope to match; they have a friendship and a shared history, and Bruce has the Avengers and a piece of paper. He’s not sure it’s going to hold up.

 

Tony’s made a reservation at the sort of casually expensive restaurant Bruce never would have eaten at before. There are no prices on the menu, and wine is sold only by the bottle.

 

Rhodes whistles when he sees the name on the front, which means nothing to Bruce. “Who did you have to kill to get reservations on such short notice?” he asks.

 

“Are you kidding?” Tony asks. “We’re the hottest couple in the country right now. They jumped at the chance to give us a table. It’s free publicity.”

 

Rhodes doesn’t appear impressed. “Hottest couple, huh?”

 

“Brangelina is yesterday’s news,” Tony replies lightly.

 

Bruce trails them inside, feeling as though he has a target painted on his back. There are a couple of photographers keeping a discreet distance, but they’re not the ones making Bruce nervous.

 

The skin on the back of his neck prickles, and Bruce glances around as Tony holds the door open for him. He clenches his left hand, feeling the bite of his wedding ring.

 

“You okay?” Tony asks in an undertone.

 

Bruce nods. “Yeah, just—nothing. Probably me being paranoid.”

 

Tony’s hand lands on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Paranoia can keep you alive. We’ll keep an eye out.”

 

Bruce is grateful that Tony doesn’t dismiss his concerns out of hand, and he tries to put his anxiety to one side as Tony and Rhodes catch up, talking about Rhodes’ most recent mission, and some of Tony’s current projects. Bruce mostly stays quiet, inserting a comment now and then when Tony looks at him expectantly.

 

Tony gets a bottle of wine, but Bruce nurses his drink, too on edge to risk drinking more than that. He doesn’t have much of an appetite either, but he orders a vegetarian pasta dish and figures he’ll eat enough to ensure Tony doesn’t worry.

 

“What about you, Dr. Banner?” Rhodes asks after Tony expounds on the modifications to the arc reactor. “Are you working?”

 

Bruce shifts uncomfortably. “Call me Bruce, and I’m working on a few projects.”

 

“Cancer treatments, water treatment programs, microbial scrubbing,” Tony lists. “Plus, a few classified projects that would be above my pay grade if I weren’t helping him.”

 

Rhodes raises his eyebrows. “You’re a busy man.”

 

“It keeps me out of trouble,” Bruce replies carefully.

 

“What can I say, Rhodey?” Tony asks. “Two geniuses are better than one.”

 

Rhodes smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So it seems.”

 

Bruce is grateful when their food arrives for the distraction that it offers, although he mostly just pushes his pasta around the plate.

 

“So, what did this guy have to promise you to get you to marry him?” Rhodes asks Bruce.

 

Bruce shrugs. “He used logic to persuade me that it was a good idea. All I wanted was a place to lie low for a while.”

 

“I’d hardly call what you’re doing lying low,” Rhodes replies.

 

Tony steps in again, and Bruce wonders how many times Tony’s had to run interference for someone, rather than the other way around. “That’s the point, Rhodey,” Tony says quietly. “Bruce isn’t going quietly anymore. There’s no way Ross can make him disappear without so much as a ripple.”

 

Rhodes nods. “That’s true enough. I saw the press with you and Captain America,” he says, looking at Bruce.

 

“Steve and I are friends,” Bruce replies carefully. “And the kids seemed to enjoy it.”

 

“Meeting two of the Avengers, I’m sure they did,” Rhodes says. “So, Tony, when are you going to do one of these visits?”

 

Tony grins, but it’s all teeth. “Just as soon as they decide I’m not going to corrupt the little darlings. So, Rhodey, where are you heading next?”

 

Bruce is relieved when Tony manages to keep the conversation on Rhodes’ next assignment, and on current events once that information runs out.

 

But eventually Tony says, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

 

That leaves Bruce alone with Rhodes, and Bruce stares down at the table, bracing himself for the conversation to come.

 

“I was worried about him after he and Pepper broke things off,” Rhodes says conversationally. “I figured he’d self-destruct again.”

 

“Again?”

 

“Granted, last time he was dying,” Rhodes continues.

 

Bruce glances up to meet his eyes, finding Rhodes staring at him, his expression puzzled and wary.

 

Bruce blinks as he takes in Rhodes’ implication. “Oh. You thought this might be him self-destructing.”

 

“Marrying someone who turns into the Hulk, taking on the American military—yeah, the thought had crossed my mind,” Rhodes replies. “But he says he’s happy.”

 

“I hope he is,” Bruce replies. “I want him to be.”

 

Rhodes makes a thoughtful noise, but then Tony comes back. “You haven’t been telling any embarrassing stories about me, have you?” he asks, draping a possessive arm across Bruce’s shoulders.

 

“Now why would I do that if you weren’t here to be embarrassed?” Rhodes asks. “But now that you’re back, let me tell Bruce about the time I had to bail your ass out of jail in Germany.”

 

Tony groans theatrically. “Come on. He doesn’t need to know about that.”

 

“He deserves to know what he’s getting himself into,” Rhodes counters. “If he’s in this for the long haul.”

 

Bruce knows he’s being tested, and he says, “Definitely in it for the long haul, even if I don’t know all of Tony’s embarrassing stories.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Rhodey probably hasn’t told you about getting locked outside in his underwear, has he?”

 

Rhodes chokes. “You know, we can save the story about Germany for another time. Bruce? What about you?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I don’t have much to tell.”

 

“Where did you do your graduate work?” Rhodey persists.

 

“Culver.”

 

“Oh, did you know Professor Martin?” he asks.

 

And then they’re on to safer topics—science and new technology, and mutual acquaintances, as well as plans for the future.

 

Bruce is grateful when no one asks him about his past, either the time before the Other Guy or after, because it’s too painful, especially in front of a near stranger. He could probably talk about his days on the run, and some of the people he’d met, but it wouldn’t be very entertaining, filled as those days were with a simmering rage and constant fear of discovery, as well as privation and hunger.

 

He doesn’t like thinking about his past, and he hates talking about it even more. He’d much rather stay in the present; that’s how he’d made it through the last few years.

 

When Tony and Rhodes have finished their meals, and Bruce’s leftovers have been boxed up, Rhodes leans across the table. “I feel like I should offer you two a friendly warning.”

 

Next to Bruce, Tony stiffens. “What’s that?”

 

“Ross isn’t going to be put off by a little publicity, Tony,” Rhodes replies, his voice intent. “He’s obsessed with Bruce, and he doesn’t much like you. He’s going to try again.”

 

Tony is totally serious for once. “Let him try. I play to win.”

 

“I hope for your sake, and for Bruce’s, that this plan works out,” Rhodes replies. “If I can do anything, give me a call.”

 

Tony’s expression is inscrutable. “I won’t put you between a rock and a hard place.”

 

“Let me decide that,” Rhodes replies. “If I can help, I will.”

 

They stand up, and Rhodes holds out his hand and says, “It was nice to meet you, Bruce. Take care of him, okay?”

 

Bruce nods. “I’ll try.”

 

Rhodes gives Tony a brief, hard hug, whispering something in his ear that Bruce can’t make out.

 

Happy has the car idling at the curb when they exit the restaurant, and Tony asks, “Can we give you a ride somewhere, Rhodey?”

 

“No, I’ll catch a cab,” Rhodes replies. “I should get going. I have to report early tomorrow.”

 

Bruce climbs into the car wearily, leaning his head against the leather seat, grateful that it’s over, and that he’s relatively safe. Soon, they’ll be back in the Tower, with its security protocols, and Jarvis keeping track of everyone.

 

He could have done without the reminder that Ross is still out there, probably biding his time until the day when he can make a grab at Bruce.

 

“You okay?” Tony asks, maybe sensing Bruce’s mood.

 

He nods. “Just tired.”

 

Tony gives him a sharp look, as though he doesn’t quite trust that Bruce is being honest, and then he says, “We’ve laid our groundwork. Ross can’t come after you without repercussions.”

 

“And if he gets his hands on me somehow?” Bruce counters. “You heard Rhodes.”

 

“Rhodey worries,” Tony replies, but he sounds just a little bit uncertain. “Look, Ross might be obsessed with you, and he might hate me, but even if he does make a move against you, he’s not going to get away with it.”

 

Bruce rolls his head to look at Tony. “You can’t promise that.”

 

Tony looks hurt. “You’re doubting me now?”

 

“I don’t doubt that you mean it,” Bruce replies. “And I believe that if he does come after me, you’ll make him regret it. But you can’t promise that nothing will happen to me, just like you can’t promise that nothing will happen to _you_.”

 

“Okay, fair point,” Tony agrees. “But you can’t live your life in fear.”

 

Bruce doesn’t want to argue about this. Maybe he can’t continually worry for his life, but he worries for Tony, and he’s pretty sure his situation has actually gotten worse, not better.

 

Because Bruce will do anything to keep Tony safe, and Rhodes’ words had driven that point home.

 

If Ross hates Tony so much, there’s every chance he’ll threaten Tony—or worse—just to get to Bruce, which means that Bruce has put Tony in the line of fire.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony knows what it’s like to be so caught up in his own thoughts that the rest of the world ceases to exist, and so stuck on a particular problem that it becomes insurmountable. Right now, Bruce is a million miles away, staring out of the window, and the few inches that separate them feel like a much larger gulf.

 

As a gambling man, Tony would bet that Bruce is fretting about Ross, and it makes sense. Bruce had been on the run a long time before Tony had proposed this plan. It’s probably going to take more than a few months to convince him that it’s going to work.

 

Time, and maybe Ross’ demise, Tony thinks sourly, wishing he had an excuse.

 

He doesn’t think Bruce has any idea just how far he’d go to protect him.

 

Happy parks in the underground lot. “Anything else I can do for you, boss?”

 

“I think we’re good,” Tony replies. “Thanks, Happy.”

 

Bruce murmurs a thank you and climbs out of the car without a second glance at Tony, who follows him inside.

 

Tony isn’t surprised when Bruce says, “My lab, Jarvis.”

 

“Do you want company?” Tony asks.

 

“No, I don’t,” Bruce says sharply, and then sighs. “Sorry. No. I’ll be up in a while.”

 

Tony nods. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

 

He has no problem giving Bruce his space, but he has no intention of letting Bruce stew for long. So, he works on a side project for a while, one that doesn’t require too much of his attention, and then when Bruce still hasn’t come up, he pours a couple of drinks and goes to find him.

 

Bruce has draped his suit jacket over a lab stool, and his dark blue tie is askew. Tony recognizes the equations from the project Bruce had been working on earlier in the day, but it’s pretty clear that Bruce isn’t working now, because he’s staring at the screen, unmoving.

 

Judging from his expression, his thoughts aren’t terribly pleasant.

 

Tony sets down the glass of whiskey next to Bruce’s elbow.

 

Bruce startles a bit at the sound of glass against the lab bench, and he blinks several times before he seems to take in Tony’s presence and his offering. “I don’t need a drink.”

 

“If you don’t drink it, I will,” Tony replies. “No big deal.”

 

Bruce turns back to the screen deliberately, his shoulders so tight with tension that it makes Tony’s ache sympathetically.

 

Tony leans back against the lab bench, his pose deliberately casual. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“I really don’t,” Bruce replies, and he picks up the glass and takes a healthy swallow. “I’m so fucking tired.”

 

He murmurs the last so quietly that Tony almost misses what he says, but he doesn’t ask Bruce to repeat himself.

 

Tony doesn’t reiterate his earlier promises. He doesn’t try to convince Bruce that his fears are baseless. He just grabs Bruce’s tie and hauls him close.

 

Bruce makes a sound that’s somewhere between surprise and need, and his mouth opens under Tony’s, and then he breaks it off. “I can’t tonight,” Bruce says, his voice hoarse with an edge of desperation. “I’m too—I can’t. Tonight isn’t the night to test your theory, Tony.”

 

“I just want to kiss you,” Tony murmurs. “Let me do that. Just that.”

 

Bruce pulls Tony’s head down in response, and Tony lets go of Bruce’s tie to thread his fingers through Bruce’s hair, cradling the back of his skull. He keeps the pace slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that could go on for hours.

 

Tony’s already hard, but he ignores the ache, using his free hand to squeeze Bruce’s shoulder, and feels the knotted muscle. He digs in, hard, and Bruce stiffens, making a pained sound.

 

“What—”

 

“Easy,” Tony advises. “I’ve been told I have very good hands.”

 

He presses again, and feels the tension dissolve, and Bruce’s head drops onto Tony’s shoulder, and his hands grip Tony’s waist. Tony massages the back of Bruce’s neck, his shoulders, and the muscles on either side of Bruce’s spine.

 

Tony can feel Bruce’s warm, moist breath against his shirt, and he can feel when the tightly coiled tension leaves his frame, when he gives himself over to the pleasure of being touched.

 

It’s hot as hell, Tony thinks. He wishes he dared push it further tonight, and knows better.

 

He knows what’s at stake here.

 

When Tony’s hands still, resting on Bruce’s shoulders, Bruce sighs. “Thanks.”

 

“Come on,” Tony replies, finishing his drink and pulling Bruce to his feet. “You’re not going to get any more work done tonight, and you know it.”

 

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Bruce admits.

 

Tony shrugs. “Then we’ll watch a movie. But _you_ need to stop thinking for a while. Normally, I’d suggest sex, but we’ll have to try that out some other time.”

 

Bruce shakes his head dubiously. “I think you have too much faith in me.”

 

Tony puts an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “That’s where you’re wrong, Big Guy. I have just enough faith.”


	11. Chapter 11

Bruce does sleep that night, but it’s on the couch, curled around Tony, with _Star Wars_ on in the background.

 

When he wakes up alone, a blanket tucked around him, Bruce rubs his eyes, wondering whether he could get away with crawling into bed, pulling the covers over his head, and never coming out.

 

Ever since the accident, when he’d walked away from his life the first time, Bruce had found it easy to leave. He’d pack up and walk away without regret—or he’d just run, if there was no chance to grab his things.

 

The first time he’d left had been a wrench; he now knows that would be nothing compared to leaving Tony. Leaving now would gut him.

 

Bruce had never intended to get this attached, and he wonders if the worst happens, if Ross goes after Tony, could he be selfless enough to walk away? He’s not so sure.

 

Pushing that thought out of his mind, Bruce heads to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to get some space and clear his head. He knows that Tony would probably have a different kind of exercise in mind, but Bruce needs to get outside, even though it’s probably a risk.

 

He drags on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and then pulls on a pair of tennis shoes, not caring whether they’re his or Tony’s. They’re close enough to the same size that it doesn’t really matter, and Tony keeps telling him that what’s his is Bruce’s.

 

Bruce isn’t much of a runner these days, leaning more towards yoga or pilates, something he can do in an enclosed space without any equipment, but he still enjoys it. He walks to the nearest park, and then gradually increases his pace. By the time he’s made a complete circuit, his shirt sticks to his back, and he’s feeling the sort of high that only comes from sustained physical activity.

 

He walks for a bit and stretches carefully, and when he looks up, there’s a man standing in front of him.

 

Bruce doesn’t recognize him, but there’s something about his stance that puts Bruce’s back up. The relaxed posture, the hands behind his back, all screams “at ease,” and Bruce has been around enough soldiers to know.

 

He straightens and wonders if he can get away with ignoring the man’s presence.

 

“Dr. Banner,” the man says. “It’s nice to see you without your shadow.”

 

Apparently not. “What do you want?” Bruce asks bluntly, feeling the late summer sun beating down on the back of his neck.

 

“You know you’re just delaying the inevitable,” the man replies. “The General still has his eye on you.”

 

Bruce swallows his fear. “Ross can go to hell.”

 

“Not before he sees Stark there,” he says pleasantly. “What would you do to protect your new husband?”

 

He makes “husband” sound like a curse word, and Bruce’s hands clench at his sides. “You’re taking a risk.”

 

The man looks around, and Bruce has never been more aware of how many people are around him, how many children are playing. He can’t afford to let the Other Guy out now, and this man knows it. He’d chosen the time and place for this meeting—somewhere Bruce couldn’t risk losing control, and a time when he was alone.

 

Bruce feels a chill, because that can only mean he’s being watched.

 

“I ask you again, Dr. Banner,” the man repeats. “What are you willing to do to protect your husband?”

 

Bruce can feel his heart rate increase, and there’s a green tinge to his vision. “I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question,” Bruce replies, his voice deepening, taking a step closer to the man. He has the satisfaction of seeing the man take a step back. “In fact, I don’t think you want to be here. My control isn’t always perfect.”

 

“Think about it, Dr. Banner.” The man’s voice isn’t as steady as he probably wishes it to be, and he turns and walks away—very quickly.

 

Bruce takes several deep breaths, trying to get himself under control.

 

“It’s him!”

 

Bruce stiffens, ready to run if he has to, but then he realizes it’s a little boy, tugging on a young woman’s hand. He takes another deep breath and forces a smile as he says, “Hello.”

 

“Mr. Hulk!” the boy announces as they approach. “How come you’re not green?”

 

“Evan,” the woman says, her tone a warning. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but Evan is glued to the television any time you or Mr. Stark are on the news.”

 

Bruce smiles, the expression genuine, and he crouches down. “Hi, Evan. It’s really nice to meet you. You can call me Bruce.”

 

Evan’s blue eyes go wide. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Bruce replies.

 

“Will you be my friend?” Evan whispers, looking equal parts fearful and delighted.

 

Bruce holds out a hand. “Absolutely. Come by the Tower sometime, and I’ll give you a tour.”

 

His hand completely dwarfs Evan’s, but the boy has gone speechless with joy.

 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Banner,” the young woman says.

 

Bruce stands up straight. “And your name?”

 

“Dani,” she says. “I’m Evan’s nanny. I don’t suppose—if we could meet Mr. Stark, too, I’m pretty sure I could get Evan to behave for a year.”

 

“I can’t make any promises,” Bruce replies. “But I’ll do my best. How about that, Evan? You want to be a scientist when you grow up?”

 

“Yeah!” Evan agrees. “And a firefighter!”

 

Bruce laughs. “There’s nothing to say you can’t be both. Thank you, Evan, and Dani.”

 

He shakes both their hands again, and feels as though his control is secure, even though he knows he can’t ignore the threat against Tony.

 

Bruce keeps an eye out for any tails as he heads back for the Tower, although one isn’t needed to track him. They know where he’s living, and they know they can camp out and then follow him anywhere.

 

He’s grateful when he doesn’t run into Tony on his way up to take a shower, and he grabs a cup of coffee and heads directly to his lab. He still hasn’t decided whether to even tell Tony about the confrontation in the park, and he needs the space to consider his options.

 

It’s ironic, he thinks. He’d gone for a run to clear his head, and had just made matters worse; it’s the story of his life.

 

Bruce tries to focus on his work, but with little success. He’s torn between grabbing a bag and doing his best to disappear, and staying to brave it out.

 

“Hey.”

 

Tony’s voice causes Bruce to jump, and he grips the edge of the lab table to steady himself. “Hi.”

 

Tony wraps a hand around his wrist. “Are you okay?”

 

Bruce smiles, hoping that he can manage to fool Tony this once. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

 

Tony doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he says, “Pepper said she might come over for dinner tonight. She has a few business things to discuss with us. Are you okay with that?”

 

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” Bruce asks, trying to keep his tone light, and probably failing miserably.

 

Tony releases his wrist to physically turn Bruce around so that the edge of the lab table presses against his back. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

 

“Try again,” Tony replies. “You forget that I _know_ you, and I know when something beyond the ordinary is bugging you. Let’s start with where you went this morning.”

 

Bruce closes his eyes, not wanting to see Tony’s expression. “I went for a run.”

 

“How very healthy of you,” Tony says dryly. “Anything happen on your run?”

 

“I met a young fan of yours,” Bruce replies. “I told him he could visit.”

 

“How young?”

 

“Maybe five,” Bruce says. “He was cute.”

 

Tony hums thoughtfully. “I don’t mind kids. What else happened?”

 

“What makes you think something else happened?”

 

“You have ‘something else’ face,” Tony replies easily. “Look at me, Bruce.”

 

Bruce opens his eyes.

 

“I know what you looked like last night, after we got done with Rhodey, and I think I helped,” Tony begins. “Now you have the same face times a million, so I know something happened.”

 

“I went for a run,” Bruce says mechanically. “There was a man. He said Ross would go through you to get to me. I scared him off.”

 

Tony swears with a fluency that impresses Bruce, who spent a lot of time on an Army base. “What else?”

 

“That’s it,” Bruce protests. “I think he knew how close I was to letting the Other Guy out. Look, maybe—maybe it’s time for me to go.”

 

It kills him to suggest it, but Bruce feels honor bound to try.

 

“What?” Tony asks in a dangerous tone.

 

“They could go after you,” Bruce points out. “Even with you being Iron Man. I just think that maybe it’s a good idea if I leave, and then—”

 

“If that sentence ends with you suggesting sacrificing yourself to save my sorry ass, then you can just shut the fuck up,” Tony says fiercely. “I told you, we’re in this together. Did you think I didn’t mean it?”

 

Bruce feels abashed. “No, but—”

 

“Then shut the fuck up,” Tony orders, and kisses Bruce.

 

There’s nothing gentle about it this time. Tony’s grip on Bruce’s hips is almost painful, and if he didn’t have the Other Guy lurking under his skin, he suspects that Tony’s fingers would leave bruises. Tony kisses him with a single-minded determination that says everything about his intentions.

 

“We are in this together,” Tony insists when he pulls back, putting emphasis on every word. “And for the record, if they’re coming after you, they’d damn well better come through me.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce agrees, helpless to do anything else. It feels too fucking good to have someone watching his back, and he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to lose what he’s got.

 

Tony smiles. “Good. Now that you’ve got _that_ through your thick skull, let’s see what we can do to throw them off course.”

 

~~~~~

 

There’s a part of Tony that wants nothing more than to keep Bruce in the Tower and never let him out of his sight. He wants to take all this on himself, to be the one to protect Bruce.

 

In reality, Tony knows that he needs to use every resource at his disposal to ensure Bruce’s safety; he has no doubt that he could get Bruce _back_ , but Tony knows all too well what can happen to a person between capture and rescue.

 

Tony’s first call is to Laurel, and he fills her in as briefly as possible, watching her sober expression over the videophone. “I don’t know what we can do right now, but I thought you should be made aware.”

 

“Ross must be getting pretty desperate if he’s approaching Bruce in broad daylight and threatening you,” Laurel muses. “It sounds like he wants Bruce to run.”

 

Tony mentally slaps himself in the forehead. “Of course. He wants to isolate Bruce, making it easier to grab him.”

 

“When is he most vulnerable?” Laurel asks.

 

“Right after a transformation,” Tony says. “Unless he’s got something that will suppress the Hulk.”

 

Laurel hums thoughtfully. “Let’s hope that’s not the case. For right now, the best we can do is make sure that he’s not alone, or is alone as seldom as possible. Do you think you can keep him inside for the next couple of days while I put some things in motion?”

 

“Bruce is spooked enough that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony agrees.

 

“If he does go out, he needs to be with you or Steve,” Laurel directs. “Ross can’t touch either of you without risking a major incident, and if Bruce is with you guys, he’ll be safer.”

 

“But not safe,” Tony says, disgruntled. “Ross has indicated that he’ll happily go through me, but I don’t think he’ll touch Steve. Dammit.”

 

Laurel gives a little laugh. “For Bruce’s sake, you might want to keep Steve around, even if you hate him.”

 

“Hate is a strong term,” Tony replies. “We just don’t always see eye to eye.”

 

“I’ll be over tomorrow, and we’ll work on a strategy,” Laurel promises. “Meanwhile, if you have any favors to call in with that super-secret government agency I’m not supposed to know about, I would suggest getting extra security, people you can trust.”

 

Tony nods. “I’m on it. Thanks, Laurel.”

 

“Call me if anything changes,” she says. “ _Anything_.”

 

“Will do,” Tony promises, and dials Fury next. “If you don’t do something about Ross, I will, and you probably won’t like it,” he says without preamble.

 

Fury glowers at him. “You aren’t supposed to have this number, Stark. I changed it.”

 

Tony smiles. “As if that’s going to stop me. And I mean it.”

 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Fury growls.

 

“Ross threatened Bruce, and me,” Tony replies. “He had one of his men approach Bruce in broad daylight, and in public.”

 

Fury sighs. “Ross is a thorn in my side, but there’s nothing I can do about him right now. I told you, he’s going to have to make a move first.”

 

“He made a move,” Tony argues. “He threatened me to get to Bruce.”

 

Fury shakes his head. “You haven’t made a lot of friends yourself, Stark. There aren’t that many who would mourn your passing.”

 

“And what about Steve?” Tony counters.

 

“If Captain Rogers wants to give Dr. Banner a hand, that’s his prerogative,” Fury admits. “And I’m sure if Agents Barton and Romanoff wish to assist you, I won’t stand in their way.”

 

Tony relaxes slightly. If anyone can keep Bruce safe, it’s the team, and Fury’s making a large concession without seeming to do so. “All right, if that’s the way you want to be.”

 

He cuts transmission and leans back in his chair. It’s a start, anyway—it’s a good start.

 

Tony decides to put off calling Steve, since he’s certain Bruce won’t step foot outside the Tower for at least the next day—if he can be persuaded to leave at all, now that Tony has convinced him not to run.

 

He considers joining Bruce in his lab, but decides to give him some space and let Bruce come to him. It’s what Tony would want, and Bruce knows where to find him.

 

Tony works on designs for a new team jet—funded by SHIELD, but really only for the Avengers’ use. He’d also promised to work on a few new arrow designs for Clint, which will be just compensation for any help protecting Bruce, and he has a few ideas for Natasha’s weaponry as well.

 

And no, Tony _doesn’t_ make weapons anymore, but he’ll make an exception for his team, since he looks at their weapons the same way he does the suit—they’re a way to make the world a better place, to protect people. And right now, they’re protecting Bruce.

 

It’s late afternoon when Bruce wanders into Tony’s lab, his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. “Hey.”

 

Tony waves. “Give me a sec.”

 

“Sure.” Bruce sits down on the lab stool next to Tony, and he leans back against the table with a sigh. Once Tony has finished his thought, he turns to Bruce, who reaches out and entwines their fingers. “What time is Pepper coming over?” Bruce asks.

 

“She should be here fairly soon,” Tony replies. “Why? Do you have other plans?”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I was just curious.”

 

Tony tugs him close for a long kiss. “Laurel is coming over tomorrow morning to talk strategy,” he says. “And Fury basically promised to lend us Clint and Natasha for security.”

 

“For how long?” Bruce asks, a note of despair in his voice. “Ross is watching me. He’ll wait for his chance.”

 

Tony squeezes his hand. “He can’t live forever, and I doubt he’s that patient. He makes a move, and Fury can act, and if Fury won’t act, then I’ll find some other way to get at Ross.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath. “Right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

 

“You’ve been dealing with this shit for a long time, and you’ve been doing it alone,” Tony says, interrupting him. “Give yourself a break, Bruce.”

 

Bruce leans in, and his kiss is needy, almost desperate, one hand still in Tony’s, the other tangled in Tony’s hair.

 

Tony approves, and he stands up without breaking the kiss, stepping in between Bruce’s spread legs. Dissatisfied with the amount of contact, Tony shoves his hand under Bruce’s t-shirt, feeling warm, smooth skin, and Bruce utters a pleased sound.

 

Tony’s calculating just how far he can push Bruce, and whether he ought to lock the door, when he hears the sound of a throat being cleared.

 

Bruce stiffens, and Tony grins against his mouth. He gives Bruce a quick, hard kiss, and glances over his shoulder at Pepper. “Hey, Pep.”

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Pepper asks.

 

Tony counts it as a good sign when Bruce huffs out a laugh and presses his forehead against Tony’s shoulder.

 

“You’re interrupting several things,” Tony replies. “But I will forgive you this once.”

 

Pepper rolls her eyes. “Can I tear you away from your lab for a minute? We have to go over a few things.”

 

Tony takes a step back, although he doesn’t let go of Bruce’s hand. “Bruce?”

 

“I think we could spare a few minutes,” Bruce replies with a wry smile. “And I don’t know about Tony, but I’m starving.”

 

“We’ll order in,” Tony assures him. “You hungry for anything in particular, Pepper?”

 

“Thai,” Pepper says definitively. “I haven’t eaten anything today.”

 

“Jarvis?” Tony prompts.

 

“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Jarvis replies. “Do you have any preferences, Dr. Banner?”

 

“I’ll eat whatever,” Bruce says. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

 

They head up to the Penthouse, and Pepper kicks off her heels as soon as she’s inside the door, letting out a sigh of relief. “I have a few things for you both to sign, but I think that can wait.”

 

“Long day?” Bruce asks sympathetically.

 

“You have no idea,” Pepper says fervently. “Wrangling the board is a full time job on its own, and they’re being particularly stupid right now.”

 

Bruce shifts uncomfortably. “I hope that’s not my doing.”

 

“No, that’s all on them,” Pepper replies. “Quite frankly, your marriage is old news. They’re used to the idea by now.”

 

Tony pokes Bruce in the ribs. “At ease, Big Guy. The board has been fairly stupid since I stopped making weapons.”

 

“It’s a constant struggle to get them to see reason,” Pepper admits. “Most of them still want to go back to the good old days when we made missiles.”

 

Tony snorts. “Tough.”

 

“Oh, I think they know it’s a pipe dream,” Pepper replies. “It’s not my fault they all have hard heads.”

 

“Are they somehow related to Tony?” Bruce asks with a sly grin.

 

Pepper laughs. “You would think, but no.”

 

Tony stretches an arm out behind Bruce. “You know, I could take that as an insult,” he says.

 

Bruce grins. “You could,” he agrees.

 

Pepper laughs. “All right, while we’re waiting for our food, let’s get this done.”

 

The papers are nothing new—patent applications that belong to Stark Industries, a few new contracts with outside parties, and a few directives. Some of it is directly related to the work Bruce is doing, so he’s the one who has to sign, and there’s the sale of a property Tony owns that needs Bruce’s signature just to ensure the legality.

 

Tony hopes that Bruce realizes how difficult it would be for him to just disappear these days. There are a hundred things that are contingent upon Bruce’s presence, not least of which is Tony’s happiness.

 

Dinner arrives shortly after they’ve finished signing the paperwork, and the conversation turns to more general matters—politics, travels, cultural differences.

 

In fact, they spend a few pleasant hours together, with Bruce telling stories of the last year he’d spent in far-flung corners of the world. Tony suddenly realizes that Bruce had avoided talking about his past in front of him and Rhodey, but Pepper asks all the right questions, drawing Bruce out, and Tony suddenly understands.

 

All of Bruce’s stories have an underlying layer of pathos—he had been running, and the people he’d helped had been terribly ill for the most part. There’s little but the basest humanity, and the struggle against illness and death.

 

And underlying all of that is the fact that Bruce had been trying to make a difference that whole time, even if he downplays his own role.

 

Eventually, Bruce says, “I’m sorry to bail, but I’m exhausted.”

 

“Of course,” Pepper replies, rising when he does to press a kiss to his cheek. “We should do this again soon.”

 

Bruce offers a faint, though sincere, smile. “We really should. Thanks for distracting me tonight.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pepper insists.

 

Bruce gives her a dubious look, but he doesn’t argue. He does bend down, giving Tony a brief, almost chaste kiss that still holds a promise of heat.

 

“I’ll be in later,” Tony promises. He watches Bruce leave, admiring the view, and catches Pepper smiling indulgently.

 

“How are things going?” she asks.

 

Tony raises his eyebrows. “I take it Laurel called you.”

 

“She called it marshaling our forces,” Pepper replies. “And she wasn’t sure you would.”

 

“I was getting around to it,” Tony replies defensively. “But I didn’t think Bruce was in the mood to talk about it.”

 

Pepper sighs, looking sympathetic. “I take it he was shaken up.”

 

Tony rubs his eyes. “Yeah, you could say that. He was talking about leaving—to protect me. I managed to talk him out of it.”

 

Pepper chuckles. “You really are two of a kind.” She pauses. “Rhodey liked him.”

 

“He talked to you?”

 

“He wanted the inside scoop,” Pepper replies. “And I gave it to him. I happen to think you’re good for each other.”

 

Tony looks at her. “Any advice?”

 

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re asking me for advice on how best to deal with your husband?”

 

Tony winces. “That’s probably insensitive.”

 

“You can send me flowers as a thank you, or an apology,” Pepper offers. “Whatever you prefer.”

 

“Anything else?” Tony asks sarcastically.

 

“That will do for now,” Pepper replies primly. “But Tony, be careful. Ross might face repercussions if he goes after you, but he may not care, and there’s not much you can do about him if you’re dead.”

 

Tony snorts. “Not going to happen.”

 

Pepper smiles. “I hope you’re right, because I would hate to lose you.”

 

She leaves soon after that, and Tony goes to bed, careful not to disturb Bruce, who rolls towards Tony almost immediately, letting out a sleepy grumble.

 

Tony smiles when Bruce slings an arm over him without even waking, and thinks it might be time to step up his game.


	12. Chapter 12

Bruce is toweling off the next morning when Tony enters the bathroom, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, slung low on his hips. “I was hoping to catch you in bed,” Tony says with a smile.

 

“Why?” he asks, wrapping his towel around his waist.

 

“And here I thought you were a genius,” Tony teases, his tone playful, but his expression intent.

 

Bruce flushes, aware of his nudity in a way he hadn’t been before. “Tony—”

 

“We’ve got at least an hour before the troops start arriving,” Tony says. “I think we should make the most of it.”

 

“And if I can’t?” Bruce counters.

 

Tony grins and pushes down his pants. “Then we’ll both have fun trying.”

 

Bruce feels a little awkward; he’s used to being naked—he’s even used to being naked around Tony—but it’s been a long time since he’s been naked with the intent of having sex.

 

“Come on,” Tony coaxes, tugging at Bruce’s towel.

 

The brush of Tony’s fingers on his bare skin lights a fire in him, and he surges forward, hands on Tony’s waist, and Tony’s mouth is hot and needy on his. Bruce steers them back to the bed, and they tumble down together, their limbs tangled.

 

Tony rolls them over, slotting their hips together, wrapping a hand around both their cocks, starting up a steady rhythm that has Bruce hard and aching with need.

 

Bruce’s heart races, and he’s poised on the knife’s edge when the tension becomes too much, and his vision is dimmed by a green haze. “Stop!” he says, and shudders when Tony immediately releases him, rolling over onto his back next to Bruce.

 

Bruce turns over, drawing in deep breaths, gradually reasserting control. He hears the sound of flesh on flesh next to him, and knows that Tony’s jerking off.

 

He feels like an idiot. He’d been so _close_ , and he really had thought he might actually be able to do this.

 

At least he’d managed to prevent the Other Guy from making an appearance.

 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Tony asks hesitantly from behind him.

 

Bruce nods. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For god’s sake, don’t apologize,” Tony orders, gripping Bruce’s shoulder. “You’re the one who didn’t get off. Are you okay?”

 

“Fine,” Bruce says, rolling onto his back. “I feel like an idiot.”

 

“Don’t,” Tony replies shortly. “We’ll work up to it. I know you were close.”

 

Bruce smiles ruefully. “I never would have believed you to be a patient man.”

 

“I’m patient when it matters,” Tony replies. He kisses Bruce lightly, trailing his hand down Bruce’s chest. “We should get dressed. Laurel will be here soon.”

 

Bruce rinses off in the shower with Tony, and then grabs clean clothing, trying to get his hair into some kind of order.

 

“You look fine,” Tony says, pressing his lips to the back of Bruce’s neck, surprising him.

 

“I need a haircut,” Bruce corrects him.

 

Tony threads his fingers through Bruce’s hair and tugs gently. “That can be arranged. My guy’s coming in next week.” He releases Bruce and slings his towel over the bar.

 

“I always wondered how you stayed so perfectly coiffed,” Bruce jokes as Tony starts pulling on his clothes.

 

“Now you know,” Tony replies, his voice muffled momentarily by his t-shirt. “Being this pretty requires a considerable amount of work.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Sure it does.”

 

“Hey, you’re living with me, so you’d know,” Tony says. “You cool?”

 

Bruce gives him a look. “Don’t try to mother me.”

 

“Do I look like your mother?” Tony asks, putting on a pair of tennis shoes. “And I’m going to remind you of this next time I get injured and you hover.”

 

Bruce has to admit that Tony has a point. He’d probably be hovering if Tony were injured. What sucks is that Bruce isn’t injured—it’s just the Other Guy interfering.

 

Again. As always.

 

In apology, Bruce turns and kisses him, lingering a bit, his thumb tracing the strong line of Tony’s jaw. “We’re okay.”

 

“That’s all I need to know,” Tony replies.

 

“Sir, Ms. Goodwin and Captain Rogers have arrived,” Jarvis announces.

 

“We’ll be right there, Jarvis,” Tony replies, steering Bruce with one hand on his lower back.

 

Bruce has to admit that the physical contact is a comfort. He trusts that Tony isn’t going to give up on him, but he still likes the physical reassurance.

 

Laurel and Steve are sitting next to each other on the couch, far enough away to be circumspect, close enough to suggest that they’re on pretty friendly terms.

 

To Bruce’s surprise, Laurel stands and gives him a brief, hard hug. “How are you?”

 

Bruce blinks. “Um, okay.”

 

Laurel pulls back, her hands on his shoulders. “Good. I won’t tell you not to worry, but I will tell you that Ross is going to be very sorry that he came after you.”

 

Steve nods. “I’m here to help. Clint and Natasha should be here tonight, maybe tomorrow at the latest. Thor’s on Asgard, or he’d be here, too.”

 

“You don’t have to stay,” Bruce protests.

 

Laurel sits back down. “I know you’re going to hate this, Bruce, but I’m going to be blunt. Ross might be willing to go through Tony to get to you, but Steve, Clint, and Natasha are another story. This isn’t just for your protection; it’s for Tony’s, too.”

 

Bruce sits heavily. He hadn’t thought about that aspect. “Okay.”

 

“I’m not saying that you and Tony can’t leave the building together,” Laurel says quickly. “In fact, I need both of you to go out tomorrow night, to a very romantic dinner, because you need to be in the news, and people need to remember that you’re very much in love.”

 

“How is that going to help?” Tony asks.

 

“Because if Ross carries out his threat, we need the public to respond with an outpouring of support on your behalf,” Laurel replies. “Steve is going to hang around for the same reason, because if Ross moves against you, he’s going to publicly condemn Ross’ actions against his friend.”

 

Steve clears his throat. “Which will be the truth. He shouldn’t be able to come after you like this. It’s not fair.”

 

“I think hell just froze over,” Tony remarks.

 

Bruce glances at him. “What? Why?”

 

“Steve and I actually agree on something,” Tony says. “There is now a snowball surviving in hell.”

 

Bruce chuckles, Laurel laughs, and even Steve cracks a smile. “What about this romantic dinner?” Bruce asks. “Isn’t it a risk to Tony?”

 

“Not if Clint and Natasha are there, posing as another couple,” Steve says.

 

“On my dime, I suppose,” Tony says a little sourly, but his hand seeks out Bruce’s and squeezes tightly. “But I imagine that can be arranged.”

 

Laurel smiles. “It’s going to be a fine balance, gentlemen. Keeping you safe is our priority, Bruce, but we also need to ensure that the public remembers you, and _wants_ to keep you safe.”

 

“Ross is going to make a move,” Tony says, sounding completely serious for a change. “I’ll make sure Ross doesn’t get his hands on Bruce. You make sure the public crucifies him if he tries.”

 

And Bruce begins to feel a cautious optimism, thinking that maybe, with all these people in his corner, he might just be okay.

 

~~~~~

 

Having Steve around doesn’t put as much of a crimp in Tony’s plans as he’d feared. Tony puts Steve in Bruce’s old room, and Steve mostly makes himself scarce over the next two days. “I’ve got my phone if you need me,” Steve says. “Just call.”

 

Bruce seems torn between staying with Tony and retreating to his own lab, and Tony says, “I could use your help, if you don’t have anything else going on.”

 

“I always have things going on,” Bruce replies. “But I have time for you.”

 

“Great,” Tony replies. “Because I have work for you.”

 

Tony had never given much consideration to having a partner. There had been Obadiah, of course, but he’d taken care of the business side of things, while Tony had mostly worked alone on research and development. Even with Pepper, they’d spent a considerable time apart.

 

He and Bruce are together almost all the time, though, and Tony has yet to tire of his company. At this point, he doubts that he’ll ever be weary of having Bruce around.

 

Tony keeps in near-constant contact with Bruce, partly because it’s part of the plan, and partly because he can’t keep his hands off him.

 

Plus, Tony’s amused by the looks Bruce keeps sending his way, slightly wary and more than a little bit aroused.

 

When Tony sticks his hand in Bruce’s back pocket, Bruce sighs. “Are you trying to prove a point?”

 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Tony replies with a smirk. “I just have a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

 

Bruce shakes his head, but he bumps Tony’s shoulder with his own. “I think we can improve the power consumption on the new jet if we alter the fuel intake system slightly.”

 

“For someone who professes not to be an engineer, you have good instincts,” Tony replies.

 

“I have some understanding of engineering,” Bruce says. “I’m just not the engineer you are.”

 

 Tony grins. “No one is.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. “Back to work.”

 

Between the two of them, they get a lot done, and Steve shows up in the lab around eight with a paper bag marked with grease stains. The smell of fries causes Tony’s mouth to water. “I thought you guys might be hungry.”

 

“Starving,” Bruce agrees, sounding markedly more cheerful. Tony understands; there’s nothing like a productive day in the lab to improve the spirits.

 

They go back to the living area to eat, and Tony’s surprised to see that Clint and Natasha are there, already devouring their own sandwiches, an order of fries spilling out between them on the table.

 

“When did you two get in?” Tony asks. “And why didn’t Jarvis tell me? Jarvis?”

 

“You indicated that you didn’t want to be disturbed, sir,” Jarvis replies. “And I did not disturb you.”

 

Tony huffs. “You’d think you’d tell me if there were a couple of master assassins in my house.”

 

“It’s not like we’re here to kill you,” Clint points out with a full mouth. “Hey, Doc. How are you feeling?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’m all right. You guys didn’t have to come.”

 

“Tony said we could use this as a home base while we’re on leave,” Natasha replies coolly. “Are you rescinding that invitation, Tony?”

 

“Of course not,” Tony replies. “Although Bruce lives here, too, so you probably ought to get his permission.”

 

Bruce looks from one to the other of them, and then a wry, pleased smile crosses his face. “If this is where you want to stay, I won’t stop you.”

 

“Great,” Clint says after another huge bite of his burger. “Besides, I hear that we’re going out to dinner tomorrow at a place normally above our pay grade.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Natasha says. “That’s what you get for being an assassin and not a spy.”

 

“We all have to play to our strengths,” Clint says philosophically.

 

Natasha smiles. “Well, if you hadn’t shot that guy in Rio.”

 

“It was either him or me!” Clint protests.

 

“You blew your cover,” Natasha points out ruthlessly.

 

Clint shrugs. “I see better from a distance, and someone has to watch your back.”

 

Natasha tucks her bare feet under Clint’s thigh. “And you do an admirable job,” she admits.

 

Tony watches the byplay with interest, noting that they appear more relaxed than usual, but suspecting that they’re still on high alert.

 

“Does anybody want a drink?” Tony asks.

 

“I’ll take a beer,” Clint replies.

 

“Vodka,” Natasha orders.

 

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing for me, thanks. Alcohol doesn’t do much.”

 

“You can drink it for the taste,” Tony suggests.

 

Steve smiles. “Then I’ll take a beer.”

 

“Bruce?” Tony prompts.

 

He hesitates, and then says, “Whatever you’re having.”

 

It’s a strangely convivial evening, with each of them trying to top the others with stories of foreign travels and battles fought. Tonight, they’re all Avengers, first and foremost, and as the drinks flow, tongues are loosened, including Bruce’s.

 

“I ran into a group of warlords in Pakistan,” Bruce admits. “I’ll bet SHIELD didn’t know about that.”

 

“That was you?” Clint asks incredulously. “We thought it was rival warlords.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “Well, I did warn them that shooting me was a really bad idea.”

 

Natasha lets out a bark of laughter. “That’s one way of putting it.”

 

“So, what’s Ross think he can get out of you, anyway?” Clint asks bluntly.

 

Bruce is apparently tipsy enough to answer that question. “He wants a weapon,” Bruce replies. “That’s what the Other Guy is. If he had his way, he’d cut it right out of me.”

 

“Not gonna happen,” Steve insists. “Tony might have told the world that they have to go through him to get to you, but he’ll have to go through the rest of the Avengers, too.”

 

Normally, Steve’s earnestness irritates Tony to no end, but Bruce’s bashful smile does a lot to ease his annoyance, and he’s well aware that Steve’s support is imperative. Besides, if Bruce feels more secure, he might relax a little more.

 

And if he can relax, Tony might be able to bring his plan into fruition.

 

It’s late when they finally call it a night, and Bruce’s cheeks are flushed as he follows Tony back to their bedroom. Tony’s a little surprised when Bruce grabs him and shoves him up against the door.

 

“It might not happen tonight,” Bruce warns him when he comes up for air. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

 

Tony frames Bruce’s face with his hands. “I told you: I like a challenge. And I happen to like you quite a bit.”

 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Bruce replies warmly, and then he kisses Tony again.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce considers the ties hanging in the closet, and Tony steps up behind him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Forget the tie,” he advises.

 

“You think?” Bruce asks. “I don’t want to damage your reputation by not keeping up appearances.”

 

Tony undoes the top two buttons of Bruce’s shirt with dexterity. “You look great. You’re not nervous, are you?”

 

“Why would I be nervous with a couple of master assassins watching our backs?” Bruce asks with a smile that probably hides nothing.

 

Tony lets it slide, though, taking the opportunity to press a kiss against the side of Bruce’s neck, sucking just a bit.

 

Bruce flushes. “Tony,” he warns.

 

“Happy couple, remember?” Tony says with a wicked grin, but he takes a step back. Bruce can still feel the warmth of Tony’s mouth, and he’s sure to have a red mark, even if Tony didn’t leave a bruise.

 

He doesn’t mind nearly as much as he probably should.

 

“I don’t think we have to fake that,” Bruce replies. “Even if we are still working on the happy ending.”

 

Tony’s smile softens. “Is that right?”

 

“You tell me.”

 

Tony just smirks and hooks his fingers through Bruce’s belt loop. “Come on. We’ve got a date to go on.”

 

Happy picks them up in the garage, so they don’t have to worry about the press out front, but there are at least a couple of photographers in front of the restaurant. Bruce links his fingers with Tony’s and works on not ducking away; hiding is a hard habit to break, but Tony squeezes his hand hard and turns to whisper in his ear.

 

“Picturing them naked really doesn’t help, so don’t do that,” he says.

 

Bruce snorts. “And what do you do?”

 

“Oh, I imagine all the ways I could ruin their lives when they annoy me,” Tony admits with a shark-like grin.

 

Bruce lets out a rusty chuckle, which is probably what Tony had intended. “That’s a little bloodthirsty.”

 

Tony laughs. “But it works, which is the point.”

 

And then they’re in the restaurant, and the maître d’ meets them immediately, ushering them to a secluded table. “Anything we can do for you, Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner,” he says with a sort of obsequiousness that Bruce has come to recognize as a result of Tony being obscenely rich.

 

“A bottle of wine—red,” Tony orders. “The best one you’ve got. It doesn’t have to be the most expensive.”

 

“I have just the thing, Mr. Stark,” he replies. “You’ll love it.”

 

There are moments when Bruce realizes how surreal his life has become over the last few months, and this is one of those moments. He’s on a _date_ , with his _husband_ , at an expensive restaurant, with a couple of assassins to watch his back.

 

“Did you see the two lovebirds?” Tony asks, as though he’s reading Bruce’s mind.

 

Bruce smiles, and carefully doesn’t look in their direction. “How much do you want to bet that Clint orders the most expensive thing on the menu?”

 

Tony gives him a smug smile. “The menu doesn’t have prices on it, but I wouldn’t take that bet.”

 

Bruce doesn’t want to think about what happens if Ross doesn’t make his move by the time Clint and Natasha have to go back to SHIELD, but at the same time, he’s feeling better about the possibility. He knows now that it won’t just be Tony standing in the Army’s way; it will be the entire team.

 

“So, we should talk about the possibilities for building capacity,” Tony says. “Not that I don’t want you all to myself, but what do you think about getting an assistant?”

 

Bruce frowns. “What kind of assistant?”

 

“A bright young someone as a research assistant,” Tony replies expansively.

 

“Who would want to work with me?” Bruce asks incredulously. “I go green, and they get smashed to bits.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “And you’re still Dr. Bruce Banner, who’s working for Stark Industries on groundbreaking research. Besides, that just means we have to find someone you like. The Other Guy generally likes the people you like—even Steve, for some unknown reason.”

 

Bruce has to concede that point. “I guess we’ll see.”

 

“We can talk to Xavier,” Tony suggests. “Young mutants often face discrimination, and they’re less likely to be fazed by the Other Guy.”

 

Bruce perks up a bit at that. “That’s true.”

 

“Good,” Tony says. “You can off-load the less interesting stuff and focus on what you really want to do.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had a research assistant?”

 

“Too long, I’m sure,” Tony replies.

 

“You don’t have one,” Bruce points out.

 

Tony smiles. “Bruce, I have an entire R&D department at my disposal. As the CTO, I can draft anybody I want. Including you.”

 

“I don’t mind getting drafted,” Bruce admits. “You have really interesting projects.”

 

Tony’s smile is absolutely filthy. “I have _very_ interesting projects,” he agrees, nudging Bruce’s foot under the table.

 

“You have a one-track mind,” Bruce accuses, although he can’t say it bothers him. He nudges Tony’s foot in return.

 

“I have a plan,” Tony counters and nudges back.

 

Bruce doesn’t bother asking what Tony will do after he’s accomplished what he set out to do; he already has a pretty good idea.

 

Their waiter chooses that moment to appear with the bottle of wine, introducing himself as Sean. He lets Tony taste it, and when Tony indicates it’s acceptable, pours each of them a glass. “Our chef would like to create something special for you gentlemen this evening if that is amenable to you.”

 

“I think that would work,” Tony agrees. “Bruce?”

 

He nods. “Sure.”

 

“Any allergies, or other special requests?” When they shook their heads, Sean says, “It’s my genuine pleasure to serve you this evening. Please let me know if you need anything.”

 

“Laurel chose well,” Bruce murmurs when he’s gone.

 

Tony nods. “Good service without being too obsequious. That takes talent.”

 

The food, it turns out, is excellent—some kind of fish that’s buttery, flaky, and perfect, and as usual, the conversation is scintillating. At one point, Tony reaches across the table to grab Bruce’s hand to make a point.

 

Bruce doesn’t let go for a long time, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab Tony’s hand as they leave the restaurant. He’s forgotten all about the press, and about the danger from Ross.

 

In that moment, he actually feels normal, and he shares a bright grin with Tony and climbs in the car behind him for the drive home.

 

~~~~~

 

They’re in Tony’s lab the next morning when Laurel sends him an email, copying Bruce, with a link to _Oh No They Didn’t_. Bruce is with him when he gets it, and he frowns, apparently not seeing the significance. “What’s that?”

 

“Gossip site,” Tony explains briefly, clicking on the link. Pictures of them from the night appear load quickly, and even though Tony’s jaded, he still grins at the sight of Bruce’s laughing face. “Looking good.”

 

“Why did Laurel send us the link?” Bruce asks.

 

As though his question had summoned her, Jarvis announces, “Miss Goodwin is on the phone for you, sir. Shall I put her through?”

 

“Yeah, sure, Jarvis,” Tony replies.

 

Laurel’s face appears on the videophone, and she tucks her hair behind her ears, a gesture that Tony’s come to recognize as a signal that she’s getting down to business. “So, I have good news.”

 

“I’m waiting,” Tony replies.

 

“Other than a few other gossip blogs and fan sites, no one’s really talking about your romantic dinner,” Laurel says with a mischievous grin.

 

Tony frowns. “I thought the point was to get in the news.”

 

“Have you read the comments?” Laurel asks. “Over 200 and counting, all of them along the lines of how adorable you are. If Ross tries anything, these people will raise a stink, and those are the pictures that will run. The story isn’t going to be about whether the military has a right to take Bruce in, it will be about your epic romance, and how they’re trying to come between you. And your relationship is old news in the regular press because they’ve completely accepted that you _are_ a couple.”

 

Tony has to admire her strategy. “That’s smart. That’s very smart.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony. “No offense, I’m sure you’re right, but why the emphasis on the romance?”

 

“Because there’s nothing the public loves so much as a romance, especially when they’re as adorable as you two are,” Laurel says cheerfully. “Just do me a favor—if you’re going to argue, don’t do it in public.”

 

Tony smirks. “We don’t argue.”

 

“I’m sure we will,” Bruce says mildly. “We’re too wise to woo peaceably.”

 

Laurel laughs. “Just try to keep it out of the public eye, gentlemen. And get out in public every so often over the next few days, Bruce. Just be sure you have company.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir,” Tony jokes, and then turns the phone off. “So?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “All in all, a pretty painless evening, and if Laurel thinks we’re good, then I guess we are.”

 

“Better than good,” Tony promises, leaning in for a kiss.

 

Bruce deepens the kiss and then pulls back. “I have a few things I should get done. See you later?”

 

“You’d better,” Tony warns him.

 

He works hard for the rest of the day, getting enough done to thrill Pepper, and heading out to the living area. Bruce is nowhere to be seen, but Steve is playing cards with Clint and Natasha.

 

“Have you guys seen Bruce?” he asks.

 

“Not yet,” Steve replies absently, concentrating on his hand. “Should we have?”

 

“Not necessarily,” Tony replies. “He’s probably just caught up in his work.”

 

He has no desire to hang out or play cards, so he heads back down to Bruce’s lab, standing in the doorway to watch as he puts his glasses on to read the fine print on his computer screen. “You want dinner?” he calls after a moment.

 

Bruce glances up, not quite focusing on him. “Give me an hour?”

 

“Sure,” Tony says agreeably. “What are you working on?”

 

“Microbial scrubbers and that issue with the arc reactor,” Bruce says absently.

 

Tony knows that look. “You’re abandoning me to play cards with Steve, you know.”

 

That makes Bruce grin, quick and amused. “I think you’ll survive. Play nice.”

 

“For you? Anything,” Tony promises recklessly.

 

Bruce smiles again, but immediately turns back to the screen.

 

Tony knows when he’s beat; he’s followed a line of research to the end before, and has been so caught up that he doesn’t see anything else.

 

He resigns himself to playing nice with the rest of the team and heads back upstairs.

 

“How’s Bruce?” Natasha asks politely.

 

“Distracted,” Tony admits, plopping down in the free chair. “What are we playing?”

 

Clint grins. “Pitch. You know it?”

 

“I’m more of a blackjack guy,” Tony replies.

 

“With four of us, we can play in partners,” Steve suggests. “Clint, you and Tony can partner up.”

 

Clint rolls his eyes. “You’re sticking me with the newbie?”

 

“Tony’s a smart guy,” Steve says cheerfully enough. “I’m sure he’ll catch on quickly.”

 

“One round,” Clint argues. “Then we switch.”

 

A little nettled, Tony says, “Hey, I’ve played cards. You aren’t going to want to switch.”

 

“Challenge accepted,” Clint agrees.

 

Natasha and Steve win the first round, and from Clint’s groan, Tony suspects it’s not the first time he’s lost. Tony picks up the rules quickly, and he and Clint win the next round.

 

Tony points at Steve. “How did you get to be a card shark?”

 

“There’s a lot of waiting in the Army,” Steve replies equably. “You want to switch?”

 

Clint’s got a competitive look in his eye. “No way. We’re going to take you down.”

 

They’re playing their third round—best two out of three—when Bruce wanders in, looking rumpled. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he says, pressing a brief, perfunctory kiss to Tony’s lips.

 

“Try again, Jolly Green,” Tony says, and pulls him down for a much more satisfying kiss.

 

Bruce looks pleased and a little befuddled when he straightens. “What’s going on?”

 

“We’re playing Pitch,” Tony replies. “Pull up a chair, and we’ll deal you in—just as soon as Clint and I beat the pants off Steve and Natasha. Either that, or we could play strip poker.”

 

Tony feels a sharp pain in his shin from where Natasha kicks him, even as Bruce says, “No thanks. You guys see me naked often enough already.” Then he ducks his head. “You know what I mean. Did, uh, did you guys enjoy your dinner last night?” he asks a little desperately, looking at Clint.

 

“Best food I’ve had in ages,” Clint admits cheerfully. “Good wine, too.”

 

Natasha gives Tony a hard look, just to make her point. “Very good food, and very good wine,” she admits. “I can almost forgive you for the suggestion we play strip poker.”

 

Steve looks rather embarrassed as well, almost as though he’s trying very hard not to think of the possibilities. “Is anybody else hungry?”

 

Bruce offers to order and wanders off to let them finish their round of cards, and Tony realizes that this feels—good. Almost normal, even.

 

He doesn’t even mind having Steve around.

 

Bruce finishes ordering, and then he pulls up a chair next to Tony and drops down, slinging his arm casually over the back of Tony’s chair. He’s far more comfortable with physical contact now than he had been when he’d first turned up at the Tower, and Tony counts that as a solid win.

 

Now, all Tony has to do is find a way to make Ross go away, and he thinks life will be just about perfect.


	13. Chapter 13

In all honesty, Bruce is still surprised that Tony keeps trying. This thing between them—the effort it’s taking—isn’t what Tony signed up for. Tony could have sex with people who would fall into bed with him at the barest hint of an invitation, and wouldn’t ruin the evening by turning into an enormous green rage monster.

 

But Tony’s also a stubborn man, and Bruce is more thankful than he can say for Tony’s persistence. He’s beginning to believe that it will pay off.

 

Three weeks after Rhodes’ warning and Ross’ threat, and there’s been no attempt made. Steve, Clint, and Natasha are still staying at the Tower, and when asked, will only say that they’ve still got leave to burn. Bruce is careful not to leave without company, and he tries not to feel trapped.

 

He’s mostly content, but he knows the current détente can’t last forever, and Ross can afford to wait him out. Eventually, Ross will see an opportunity to catch Bruce alone, or he’ll come up with some way of capturing him that doesn’t result in the Other Guy making an appearance, and Bruce isn’t sure what he’ll do.

 

But he won’t run, he thinks. He’s done running. He has something to fight for now.

 

He’s working on a project with SHIELD, dealing with gamma radiation and Loki’s magic that’s both personally and professionally interesting. They’ve been assured that there’s no way Loki will bother them again, but Fury’s taking no chances, and he wants a way to counter Loki’s magic.

 

Bruce isn’t willing to admit that it’s magic just yet; he figures it’s just science they don’t understand, and he wants to prove it.

 

Tony rockets into his lab. “Fury’s on the phone, and he wants to talk to both of us.”

 

Bruce’s hands dance over the keyboard, and Fury’s face appears on the screen. “We need the team down in Brazil. Their president called our president, who called me. I promised I’d scramble the team.”

 

“Did you let the others know already?” Tony asks.

 

Fury nods. “I’ve already told Captain Rogers to suit up, and Hawkeye and Black Widow are getting ready as well. A helicopter will pick you up in fifteen minutes and take you to the Quinjet.”

 

“What kind of threat are we looking at?” Bruce asks.

 

Bruce can’t quite get a read on Fury’s tone. “Eyewitness reports conflict,” Fury replies. “I’ve heard everything from demons to giant robots. We won’t know until you’re on the ground.”

 

“Demons?” Tony asks skeptically.

 

“Their words, not mine,” Fury replies. “If I get more information, I’ll let you know. There are no pictures or video as yet.”

 

Tony nods. “I’d better get suited up then.”

 

Bruce saves his work and logs out for security’s sake, following Tony out of the lab and out onto the roof. The others haven’t arrived yet, and Bruce watches as the suit envelopes Tony.

 

He has to admit that it’s more than a little hot.

 

“See something you like?” Tony asks, his voice sounding just a bit tinny.

 

“It’s incredible,” Bruce admits hoarsely.

 

“Look who’s talking,” Tony replies. “You’re a walking scientific wonder.”

 

Bruce is saved from answering by the sound of an approaching chopper, and the others’ appearance on the roof. “Who’s a scientific wonder?” Clint asks.

 

“Bruce,” Tony says cheerfully, flipping up his faceplate. “He’s a modern marvel.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. Tony persists in his belief that the Other Guy is a gift—or in his words, “a terrible privilege”—but Bruce still isn’t entirely convinced.

 

Although he has to admit that he doesn’t resent the Other Guy nearly as much these days.

 

They climb into the chopper, and Bruce follows the others’ lead and pulls on a headset. “Nice to see you again, Carmichael,” Natasha says to the pilot.

 

“Same here, Agent Romanoff,” Carmichael replies with a smile. “We’ll have you at LaGuardia shortly.”

 

“Thanks,” Natasha says. “How was the last mission?”

 

Carmichael shrugs. “I was just the getaway driver, but everyone came through in one piece, and that’s the important thing.”

 

“True enough,” Clint agrees, and then they’re silent the rest of the way to LaGuardia. The noise from the chopper makes conversation difficult, even with the headsets, and Tony’s suit makes it difficult for Bruce to seek physical contact as he might have done under other circumstances.

 

The Quinjet is waiting for them, the engines already running, and Clint climbs into the pilot’s seat, Natasha sitting next to him. “Buckle up, boys and girls,” Clint announces. “Best possible speed for Brazil.”

 

It’s easier to speak in the Quinjet, but Bruce maintains his silence. He’s thinking about what he’ll need to do once they land, and about the last time he was in Brazil.

 

Bruce swallows, wondering if he should say something. Last time he was in Brazil, Ross had nearly had him.

 

Tony leans in close. “You okay?”

 

Bruce nods, deciding that he’s probably just being paranoid. “Sure. I’m fine. Just—psyching myself up, you know?”

 

Tony doesn’t appear convinced, but he doesn’t argue with Bruce either.

 

“Okay, let’s play 20 questions,” Clint says. “Tasha, you go first.”

 

A smile curves Natasha’s lips, and Bruce suspects that she’s very, very good at this game. “Not a problem.”

 

“Can it be used as a weapon?” Tony asks immediately.

 

Clint groans. “There you go, wasting a question. _Anything_ can be used as a weapon, Stark!”

 

Natasha laughs. “Yes.”

 

“Does it have metal in it?” Steve asks.

 

Natasha thinks for a moment. “Yes.”

 

They burn through 15 questions before Clint asks, “Is it a piano wire?” and gets it right. Next up, it’s Steve, and Bruce guesses a radio after 11 questions.

 

They’re halfway through the next round when Natasha announces suddenly, “Transmission from Fury. We have video.”

 

As soon as the video displays on a drop-down screen, Bruce can understand why the eyewitnesses had been so confused.

 

“Demonic robots?” he suggests.

 

“They look a little like the Chitauri,” Steve observes, leaning in close.

 

There are a dozen or so gunmetal gray figures in the video, rampaging through what appears to be one of the poorer areas of Rio. Bruce frowns, recognizing the area, and the feeling that something is off grows.

 

“What’s wrong, Big Guy?” Tony asks quietly.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I lived there for a while. I recognize the area.”

 

“When was that?” Steve inquires. “How well do you know the city?”

 

Bruce hesitates. “I know the city well enough, and that area is crowded. Once the Other Guy shows up, though, I won’t be much help with directions. I’m worried about collateral damage.”

 

Natasha speaks up from the pilot’s seat. “The Brazilian army is evacuating the area. Fury warned them that property damage is inevitable.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony promises. “I’ll keep an eye out for any civilians left behind. The Other Guy should be distracted by the demonic robots.”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Bruce mutters.

 

Tony gives him a sharp look. “That’s not all that’s worrying you.”

 

“It’s just—it’s nothing,” Bruce says. “Probably just a coincidence.”

 

Steve looks away from the screen. “What’s a coincidence?”

 

“This is where Ross found me a few years ago,” Bruce admits. “Before New York, and everything.”

 

Steve nods curtly. “Then we’ll keep an eye out. Hawkeye?” From his voice, and his use of Clint’s call sign, Bruce knows he’s slipped into battle mode.

 

Clint nods. “You got it, Cap.”

 

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Steve promises.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Bruce protests.

 

Steve shrugs. “Better safe than sorry.”

 

Tony jostles him. “We’ve got your back.”

 

Bruce nods, but he can’t quite shake the sense of foreboding.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony knows about Rio, of course. It had been in Bruce’s bio, in the first dossier Coulson handed him. He just hadn’t put their current mission together with that information.

 

Maybe he’s slipping.

 

The connection, now that it’s been made, worries him, however. If Ross had cornered Bruce in the city once before, he may try again, if only because it’s familiar soil. Tony has to push that to the back of his mind, however, because they have an emergency on their hands.

 

The shaky, grainy video of the creatures that Fury had sent told a fraction of the story—meaning that there are a lot more of the things than anticipated. Bruce is first out of the Quinjet, his skin beginning to ripple, turning that shade of green unique to the Hulk—unique to Bruce.

 

As far as Tony can tell, the Hulk seems to have gotten the hang of working with a team, at least as much as he ever will. He goes after the demonic robots—which, close up, prove to be an intriguing mix of organic and inorganic—and mostly ignores the rest of the Avengers, although he yanks Tony out of the way of a laser blast just in the nick of time.

 

The Hulk roars, drops Tony gently (for the Hulk, anyway), and then smashes the robot even more thoroughly than usual.

 

Over the coms, Hawkeye says, “I see the Hulk is also invested in this relationship.”

 

Tony ignores him and goes for the next robot.

 

They’re whittling away the enemy’s numbers slowly, and though Tony keeps a sharp eye out for civilians, the Brazilian army seems to have done an excellent job clearing the area.

 

But then Hawkeye shouts, and Tony catches a glimpse of several small figures running through the rubble, away from the robots, and Tony heads in that direction, wanting to get to them first.

 

Tony swoops in and grabs two of the kids just before they can get swatted by one of the robots, and Steve manages to shield the remaining two. They’re all young—no more than seven or eight—and Tony flies some distance away and sets them down. “Stay put,” he urges, pointing at the ground. “Stay.”

 

They’re both crying, but otherwise appear unharmed, and he breathes a sigh of relief, because he hates it when kids get hurt.

 

Tony passes Steve as he flies back to the epicenter of destruction. Steve has one kid under each arm, his shield slung over his back, and he says, “I’ll make sure they’re okay.”

 

“I hope you speak Portuguese,” Tony says. “Just keep them corralled. I think Bruce will probably know what to say when he’s back.”

 

But once Tony’s back where the fighting had been fiercest, the Hulk is nowhere to be seen, and all of the robots are in pieces. “Widow? Hawkeye? Does anybody have eyes on Banner?”

 

“He disappeared,” Natasha replies, sounding a little breathless. “I think he was chasing one of the robots, last seen heading west.”

 

“Hawkeye?” Tony asks insistently. “Where are you, buddy?”

 

There’s the sound of a groan over the coms. “The Big Guy went after the one that knocked me around, I think. Sorry. I grayed out for a minute.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, start looking,” Tony orders, and heads west, because that’s the best lead he has.

 

“Stark? What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

 

“I can’t find Bruce,” Tony says shortly. “He usually doesn’t wander off before a transformation. At least he hasn’t since New York.”

 

He feels the drumbeat of panic increase, remembering how vulnerable Bruce is right after a transformation. Tony has no idea how soon Bruce could turn back into the Other Guy, but he knows that Bruce is usually a little groggy at first, a little muzzy, as from sleep.

 

In the chaos and confusion of the evacuation, and the demonic robots—or whatever they were—it would be easy to send in a group of soldiers, to wait for the right opportunity.

 

To take what belongs to Tony.

 

He gets an idea. “Jarvis, scan for all frequencies being used in the area. Use whatever means necessary.”

 

“There’s a group of American soldiers 400 meters to the north and west of you,” Jarvis replies after a brief pause. “I believe they have Dr. Banner with them. I’ve informed the rest of your team as well.”

 

Tony doesn’t need the backup; he doesn’t want it. If there are witnesses, then he probably won’t be able to kill them.

 

The black-clad commandos have formed a tight knot around Bruce, who’s nearly naked and wearing an expression that’s equal parts fear and resignation.

 

It’s the resignation that gets to Tony, like Bruce expects this, like he’s known how this was always going to end.

 

“Hey, nimrods,” Tony calls. “Did you forget he’s not alone?”

 

Everyone in the squad looks up—ten men in all, which is beyond ridiculous in Tony’s opinion. Ten men to take on the Hulk and the Avengers? Ross must have gone completely insane.

 

Of course, then they raise their weapons, and it turns out one of them has a rocket launcher. Tony can see that Bruce is about two seconds away from launching himself at that guy, which would be a _really bad idea_ , and then rocket-launcher-guy’s shoulder sprouts an arrow.

 

Tony takes the opportunity to take out two with the repulsors in his gauntlets, which _probably_ won’t kill them, and another two go down with arrows in their thigh and shoulder, respectively. The rest are felled by well-placed bullets just above the knee, which, again, probably won’t kill them, but will put them out of commission for a while.

 

Bruce watches all of this with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What—”

 

Tony lands and cuts him off. “Where’s Ross?” he demands of the nearest soldier. “We need to have a private chat.”

 

The soldier closes his mouth tightly, and obviously has no intention of saying a word.

 

Natasha comes striding up to them a few seconds later and doesn’t even pause. She goes to one of the men she’d apparently shot and slams her heel down onto the wound in his leg. “I don’t have time for games,” she says, nearly snarling. “Your commanding officer issued an illegal order, which you followed. You attempted to kidnap and detain a United States citizen on foreign soil, who has been invited here by the President of Brazil. That means a court martial at the very least, and possibly Brazilian prison—which will not be anything _close_ to what I will do to you if you do not tell me what I want to know.”

 

Tony blinks behind his mask, very impressed and just a little bit turned on.

 

The soldier hesitates briefly, and then Natasha twists her heel, and the soldier whimpers and gives an address.

 

Natasha nods like she knows where that’s located. Hell, she probably does. She turns to look at Tony. “Clint and I will take care of this.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “I’m going with you.”

 

Bruce looks from one to the other of them. “You don’t have to do this,” he protests. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

 

“Bruce,” she says, very gently. “This is what we do. And we cannot have an American general running rogue operations like this. It’s bad for business. You should get dressed and see if you can assist with casualties.”

 

Bruce straightens at that. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

 

From what Tony can see, it’s a masterful manipulation, more so because Bruce doesn’t notice it, and he’s one of the canniest people Tony knows.

 

Clint comes jogging up to them, giving the soldiers on the ground a passing glance. “Good work, Tasha. Hey, doc, you speak Portuguese, right? Steve’s got some scared kids, and a couple of them have injuries. You want to take a look?”

 

Tony can see Bruce slip into doctor mode at that. “Of course,” he says, and then looks at the soldiers. “What about them?” he asks.

 

Natasha shakes her head. “I’ll send word. Someone will pick them up, but you don’t need to be here.”

 

Tony closes the distance between him and Bruce. “You can’t walk over this stuff in your bare feet,” he insists. “So, hang on.” He looks at Natasha. “I need to leave the suit in the Quinjet.”

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Natasha says. “You could leave it to Clint and me.”

 

“No, I can’t,” Tony says fiercely.

 

“Shouldn’t I go?” Bruce objects.

 

Tony meets his eyes. “Can you tell me that you won’t turn green and smash the hell out of him?”

 

Bruce hesitates.

 

“Your hands need to be clean, Big Guy,” Tony says.

 

Bruce frowns. “What about yours?”

 

“I’m not going to touch him,” Tony promises. “I’m just going to tell him exactly what’s going to happen from here on out.”

 

“We’ll meet you back at the jet,” Natasha says. “Once we find a ride.”

 

Tony puts an arm around Bruce’s waist, and Bruce grips his shoulders. Tony flies them back toward the Quinjet, to the spare duffel bag of clothes that’s always on board, and the medical supplies.

 

“We need to find a Hulk-size com,” Tony says as they land. “Or something. I don’t like being out of touch.”

 

Bruce presses his forehead against Tony’s, as though he can sense Tony’s need for physical reassurance. “We’ll work on it, okay?”

 

It’s not remotely okay since Bruce nearly got snatched from right under Tony’s nose, but it’s enough to go on.

 

By the time Bruce is dressed, and Tony has used the quick release on the suit, Natasha and Clint are back, driving a Jeep. At Tony’s questioning look, Natasha explains, “Borrowed from a very nice young _Capit_ _ão_ who understood our need. Clint, have Bruce look you over.”

 

“I’m fine,” Clint protests, but Bruce is right there, and he grabs Clint’s arm.

 

“Come on,” Bruce says. “I’ll make it quick.”

 

Tony swings himself into the passenger seat, and Natasha roars down the street, dodging piles of rubble.

 

“You’re going to let me do most of the talking,” she insists.

 

“This is _Bruce_ ,” Tony objects. “I’m not sitting on the sidelines.”

 

Natasha gives him a pointed look. “No, you’re not. You’re here. I’m allowing your presence because it _is_ Bruce, but this is a matter for SHIELD. Remember when Fury said he couldn’t move against Ross unless Ross actually made an attempt? Well, he’s crossed a line.”

 

“You’re damn right he crossed a fucking line,” Tony snarls, wanting to vent his anger and having no other target at the moment. “He went after my _husband_.”

 

Natasha shoots him a look, and her expression softens. “I’m aware. I was angry when Loki went after Clint, remember?”

 

Tony swallows his rage, putting it aside for the moment. “Okay. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Natasha replies. “If Ross won’t play ball, I’ll let you have him.”

 

The motel Ross is holed up in is a low-range place where the owners probably don’t ask many questions. Natasha flashes a smile and a handful of _reais_ , and soon has Ross’ room number.

 

Without the suit, Tony knows better than to try to take the lead, and he keeps his back to the wall while Natasha knocks on the door. Using a sweet tone of voice, she calls out something in what has to be Portuguese.

 

“Go away!” a man calls from inside the room. “I don’t need housekeeping.”

 

Natasha knocks again, saying something, sounding a little more urgent this time.

 

The door swings open, revealing a middle-aged man Tony doesn’t recognize.

 

“We didn’t—” He doesn’t get any further than that because Natasha hits him in the throat hard enough to have Tony wincing, although not with much sympathy.

 

Natasha takes two long strides into the room, but Tony stays where he is, knowing better than to get in Natasha’s way at this point.

 

He waits until she calls, “Clear!”

 

Ross is sprawled in a chair, glaring at Natasha. “You can’t do this,” he snarls.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Natasha purrs. “I _can_ do this, because you just risked an international incident to pursue your private vendetta. We couldn’t touch you as long as you just made empty threats; now, we can act.”

 

Ross starts to laugh. “You think you can touch me? I have very powerful friends, Agent Romanoff. I might get a slap on the wrist, but there are plenty of people in the Army who agree with me—the Hulk is a weapon, and it should be under Army control.”

 

Tony’s moving before he can think about it, his forearm slamming against Ross’ windpipe, his blood pounding.

 

He wonders if this is how Bruce feels just before he transforms.

 

“You forget that you’re dealing with _me,_ ” Tony says, keeping his voice low and even. “I have more friends, I have more money, and I have the goodwill of the public. Before this is all over, you’re going to _wish_ you’d taken what Agent Romanoff dished out.”

 

Ross sneers. “You’re not in the business of murder anymore, Stark.”

 

“I went toe to toe with the Senate and won,” Tony says with a fierce grin. “There’s more than one way to end someone, as you’ll find out.”

 

He releases Ross and steps back. “I’ll be outside, Natasha.”

 

“I’m right behind you,” she promises.

 

Tony climbs into the passenger seat and takes a few deep breaths. When he’s sure he can talk coherently, he calls Laurel, who picks up right away.

 

“You’re on the BBC,” she says. “And MSNBC has picked up the story, too. Where’s Bruce?”

 

“He’s helping the injured,” Tony says. “Ross made a move.”

 

“Is Bruce okay?” Laurel immediately demands. “No, wait, he has to be, or you wouldn’t have called me. You’d be kicking ass. Are _you_ okay?”

 

Tony takes a deep breath and lets out a chuckle. “Now you sound like Pepper.”

 

“There are worse people to emulate,” Laurel counters. “So?”

 

“We found Ross, we threatened him, and he said he had better friends. He’s not giving up on going after Bruce,” Tony says. “We need to go with the nuclear option.”

 

Laurel hums thoughtfully. “Well, it helps that the news is full of the Avengers in Brazil. Do you have corroborating evidence of the attempt to get Bruce?”

 

“Ten special ops guys with arrow wounds and/or bullet holes in their legs,” Tony says, and gives her the name of Ross’ motel. “He used his own name.”

 

“Perfect,” Laurel says. “I love it when they get cocky. I’ll leak the news as soon as you’re back in New York. When it breaks, Bruce will need to make a statement. You should probably warn him.”

 

Tony lets out a tired chuckle. “Maybe when we’re on our way back to New York.”

 

“If you can get the rest of the team to stay close for a couple of days, that will be ideal,” Laurel continues. “It will make a statement.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Tony promises, although he doesn’t think it’s going to take much arm-twisting on his part. The others like Bruce.

 

Laurel sighs. “This is what we’ve prepared for, Tony. I promise, when we’re done, Ross won’t have a single friend in the world, and if he doesn’t wind up in jail, he’ll be lucky.”

 

“I’m holding you to that,” Tony replies as Natasha climbs into the Jeep. “Talk to you as soon as we’re back in New York.” He glances at Natasha. “You were in there awhile.”

 

“I needed a few answers, and I wanted to be sure Ross stuck around long enough for the Brazilian police to get to him,” Natasha replies. “I want him to sweat.”

 

Tony smiles. “Oh, I think he will.”


	14. Chapter 14

Bruce feels as though he’s in his element here, in the middle of the devastation, performing triage as best he can with the limited medical supplies at his disposal. Steve willingly rolls up his sleeves and lends a hand, while Clint tags victims for triage—black, red, yellow, and green. There are refreshingly few black tags, and only a handful of red ones.

 

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Bruce observes as Steve puts pressure on the wound in a man’s leg.

 

Steve shrugs. “My unit went pretty far behind enemy lines often enough that we all picked up whatever we could. We rarely had a dedicated medic.”

 

Bruce nods. “Makes sense. Okay, this is going to need to be stitched up, and soon.” He slid his hand under Steve’s. “See if there are sutures and a needle in the kit.”

 

“I thought I saw some,” Steve replies, and strips off his gloves before he starts looking. “Here.”

 

Bruce nods. “Keep pressure, and give me the kit.”

 

Bruce’s hands are steady as he threads the needle and begins to stitch up the gash, the same wave of calm overtaking him that always does when he’s in the middle of a crisis like this.

 

It’s the same calm he finds in the lab with Tony, working complicated equations and conducting experiments. His anger fades in the face of his concentration on the work at hand.

 

In another hour, rescue efforts are well underway, and there are more experienced doctors on the scene, with better equipment and more in the way of supplies. Bruce’s job is done.

 

Bruce takes a step back, stripping off his gloves, and he’s suddenly so tired, he could drop right there.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asks, grabbing his upper arm as Bruce sways.

 

Bruce nods. “Just tired, is all. Are Natasha and Tony back yet?”

 

“They’re nearly here,” Steve replies. “They said they’ll meet us at the Quinjet. Clint’s already there.” Steve releases Bruce, but he stays close, as though he half-expects Bruce to collapse at any moment.

 

That’s probably not far from the truth, come to think of it.

 

The others are waiting for them when they reach the Quinjet, and Tony meets Bruce at the ramp, looking him up and down. “You okay? Because you look like shit.”

 

Bruce glances down and realizes that he’s covered in dust and grime, splatters of blood on his shirt and pants, and a little more gore on his shoes. A quick glance at Steve shows that he’s not much better off. “No worse than Steve,” Bruce points out.

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, I’m not married to Steve, so I don’t have to worry about him. Besides, you aren’t seeing yourself. Sit.”

 

Bruce sits gratefully. “Uh, did you guys find Ross?”

 

“We found him,” Natasha says neutrally as Clint fires up the engine. “And the Brazilian police are probably taking him into custody as we speak. They’ll keep him busy for a while.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “You didn’t kill him?”

 

“I wanted to,” Tony admits cheerfully. “But no. I just told him how things were going to play out.”

 

“I might have made a few other suggestions,” Natasha admits. “He knows what will happen to him if he’s so much as in the same city as you.”

 

Bruce smiles, appreciating the thought, even if he’s not sure it’s going to take. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

“Of course they did,” Steve says staunchly. “You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. It’s about time Ross figures that out.”

 

Tony puts an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “What did I tell you, Big Guy?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out Bruce’s ring. “Here, I kept it safe for you.”

 

Bruce smiles and pushes it onto his finger, leaning into Tony, and falling into a light doze, lulled by the droning of the engines. He wakes when Tony nudges him just before Clint lands the Quinjet on the helicarrier.

 

“Let’s keep this short,” Tony says. “There’s a bed with our names on it at the Tower.”

 

Fury meets them in one of the big conference rooms and waves them into chairs. “I’ll keep this brief. We’ve received intelligence that the cyborgs were created by someone going by the name of Zeller, but it appears that he may have been encouraged to target Rio, rather than his native Germany.”

 

“Encouraged by who?” Clint asks.

 

Fury’s expression is grimmer than usual. “General Ross has had some contact with Zeller; Zeller was a contractor that worked with one of the top secret programs Ross directed. At the very least, we think it’s possible that he had information about this attack—information that he did not share.”

 

Tony frowns. “Don’t tell me he’s untouchable.”

 

“Definitely not,” Fury says. “But it’s going to take time to build our case; Ross still has very important friends, and we need to be sure it’s airtight.”

 

That’s not all that reassuring, but Bruce guesses that’s about the best he can ask for. He’s lucky that Fury’s even on his side.

 

“I need the team for another couple of days,” Tony announces. “I want to be sure Ross doesn’t try to get retribution.”

 

Fury gives Tony a hard look. “What are you planning, Stark?”

 

Tony gives Fury his most innocent look, which fools no one at the table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

That pings something for Bruce, and he wonders what Tony’s got in mind, but he trusts Tony enough to let it go.

 

Plus, Bruce is _exhausted_. He doesn’t want to get into it right now.

 

“Fine,” Fury sighs. “Get out of here.”

 

“Do you need us tonight?” Steve asks. “Because I think I might sleep here if you don’t.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “No, I think we’re probably safe for tonight.” He pulls Bruce out of the room. “The helicopter should be here, and the suit should be loaded already.”

 

As usual, Tony’s money buys efficiency, and they’re landing at the top of Stark Tower less than an hour later. Tony doesn’t even bother waiting until they unload the suit; he just waves at the pilot and co-pilot, and hustles Bruce inside.

 

“Shower first, I think,” Tony says. “Go ahead. I’ll join you in a minute.”

 

Bruce is too tired to argue. He drops his dirty clothes on the floor and stands under the spray. The multiple showerheads pound aching muscles and rinse away the sweat and grime and blood, the water blissfully hot.

 

He has his back to the door, so he feels, rather than sees, Tony step inside behind him. “Don’t turn around,” Tony says, putting his hands on Bruce’s hips.

 

“Wait, what?” Bruce protests.

 

“No, no, relax,” Tony urges. “Trust me, Bruce. Relax.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath, and then lets his head drop, letting the spray soak his hair. “What are we doing, Tony?”

 

“We’re going to have to mutual orgasms,” Tony replies. “Because I think it might be easier this way, and you’re tired enough right now, and it’s close enough to the last transformation that I think it’ll be safe. So, just sit tight and let me do all the work.”

 

Tony nudges Bruce forward, and he braces his hands against the shower wall. Tony crowds him, slick skin against slick skin. Bruce can feel the hard ridge of the arc reactor against his back, as well as Tony’s erection against his ass.

 

Bruce is already achingly hard in spite of his exhaustion, and Tony’s broad, callused palm closes around him. Tony moves slowly at first, teasing him, and Bruce can feel the orgasm building. Tony keeps up that slow rhythm, and the friction isn’t quite enough to get Bruce off, so he says, “More, Tony. Please.”

 

Tony chuckles in Bruce’s ear. “You don’t want me to stop?”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Bruce gasps, because for the first time, he thinks he’ll be able to let go just enough to tip over the edge.

 

“That’s it,” Tony says. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Let it go, Bruce. Just let go, I’ve got you.”

 

And with a couple of hard pulls, Bruce cries out, his knees going weak. Tony braces him between his body and the wall, thrusting his hips, his cock rubbing against Bruce’s ass, and then he’s coming, his face pressed against Bruce’s shoulder.

 

Bruce is still breathing heavily, but he feels good, better than he has in years.

 

“Now _that_ was worth waiting for,” Tony murmurs. “Ready to finish cleaning up?”

 

Bruce grunts his agreement.

 

When they collapse into bed together, Bruce lets Tony hauls him close, Bruce’s back to Tony’s front, their limbs entwined, perfectly content.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony’s up with the sun the next morning, although he just grabs his Stark Pad and checks his email. Pepper has sent a message that says, “Glad you both made it through safely. I talked to Laurel. Call me if you need me.”

 

He smiles and clicks on the next message, this one from Laurel. “The bomb is dropping in two hours. Take 24 hours to let the press stew, and then I’ll schedule Bruce’s press conference.”

 

Tony winces, remembering that he’d neglected to tell Bruce that he’s supposed to give a press conference soon.

 

Then again, if he’d told Bruce last night, he suspects Bruce would have been too tense to truly relax.

 

Out of curiosity, he checks the news feeds for alerts about the Avengers, ignoring the stories that spew vitriol about “the freaks,” or question the need to send Americans to aid other countries. For the most part, the news is either carefully neutral or relatively positive, and the few Brazilian news sources that have English translations sound approving. The BBC reports that the Brazilian president had issued a public thanks for the Avengers’ help, and Tony suspects that Laurel is pleased.

 

Out of curiosity, he checks some of the gossip sites, but the news is mostly about Steve and how he fills out his uniform. There’s one picture of Bruce and Steve each holding a child, and Tony sees thin arms around Bruce’s neck, one cheek resting trustingly on Bruce’s shoulder.

 

Tony smiles and knows that his expression probably looks a little goofy, although there’s no one around to see it. He saves the picture for a reason he won’t be able to explain even if he tries, and glances at Bruce, whose eyes are open.

 

“Hey,” Tony says.

 

Bruce smiles, warm and wide. “Hey.” He reaches out to pull Tony down for a kiss, and Tony ignores morning breath, ignores his growling stomach, and concentrates on the feeling of Bruce’s body underneath him.

 

“Let’s try this when I’m not exhausted,” Bruce murmurs and spreads his legs. Between the two of them, they lose their shorts, and Bruce wraps a warm hand around both of their dicks.

 

Tony groans and thrusts against Bruce’s hand, seeking friction, and Bruce’s breathing increases, although Tony can see no hint of green.

 

It’s over relatively quickly with Bruce’s orgasm following on the heels of Tony’s, and Bruce pressing his face into the side of Tony’s neck.

 

“So, apparently we got you over the hump,” Tony jokes.

 

Bruce snorts with laughter. “That’s one way to put it. I don’t know that it’s always going to work, but last night took the edge off.”

 

“If you ever need to let off a little steam, I can find a deserted area for you,” Tony offers. “I’ll wear the suit, and we’ll find some Hulk-appropriate toys.”

 

Bruce pulls back enough to look at him. “You want to tell me what you’re planning? And don’t say nothing, because I know that’s not true.”

 

Tony sighs. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some coffee, and then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

 

Bruce holds his questions until they’re sitting in the living area with their mugs of coffee, and then he asks, “How bad?”

 

“Not bad,” Tony assures him. “There’s nothing bad. We found Ross, he said he wouldn’t back off, and I told him what would happen. And then I called Laurel.”

 

Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face. “You’re leaking the story.”

 

“Laurel has people she trusts, and she’s giving them enough corroborating evidence to give it traction,” Tony replies. “She wants us to lie low for the next day, and then we’ll give a press conference.”

 

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “You mean that I’m going to give a press conference.”

 

“I’ll be there with you,” Tony promises. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

 

Bruce sighs. “Why me?”

 

“Because it’s gotta be you,” Tony says sympathetically. “Because Ross came after you, so you’re the one who has to respond. It sucks, I know. Sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Bruce replies. “I have no problem blaming Ross for this, too.”

 

Tony grins briefly. “I have a feeling that Laurel will tell you exactly what to say, if that makes you feel better.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Oddly enough, that does.”

 

“You want a distraction?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce lets out a breath. “God, yes. Anything.”

 

“I was thinking about putting together a thank you gift for the rest of the team,” Tony says. “Want to help?”

 

“Absolutely,” Bruce agrees, sounding relieved.

 

Tony slings an arm around his shoulders, more grateful than ever to have Bruce with him.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce is thankful when Tony deliberately ignores the news and any mention of Ross or possible press conferences. They work on Clint’s arrows, and a couple of new toys for Natasha and Steve, but then they get to playing with the kind of weird science that only an engineer and a nuclear physicist can get up to.

 

By the end of the day, they have what looks like working plans for a teleporter, which is _really_ fucking cool, in Bruce’s estimation.

 

He’s a little too on edge that night to do much more than stretch out on the bed and make out with Tony, but that feels just as good, knowing that he’ll go to sleep next to Tony, and wake up next to him in the morning.

 

If Tony’s right—if Laurel does what she’s promised—Ross will be no more than a bad memory, and Bruce trusts them.

 

That’s fairly novel as well.

 

When Bruce wanders out the next morning, he finds the others waiting. Steve is scrambling eggs on the stove, Natasha is pouring a cup of coffee, and Clint is perched on the counter. Pepper and Laurel are there, too, and both of them have removed their suit jackets and kicked off their heels.

 

“Whoa,” he says, pausing when he sees the gathering of strength—and he knows that’s exactly what it is.

 

Pepper turns to look at him. “Bruce, hi,” she says, and gives him a hard hug.

 

“Hi,” Bruce says helplessly, hugging her back. “I’m okay.”

 

Pepper pulls back. “I know you are, but it’s good to see you.”

 

Bruce smiles a little uncertainly. “Same here. Hi, Laurel.”

 

Laurel looks him up and down, probably taking in the stained, threadbare khakis and blue t-shirt. “You look good,” she says brightly.

 

Bruce smiles. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I look like a slob, because I wasn’t expecting company.”

 

“You look comfortable,” Pepper says, drawing him towards the kitchen. “That’s the important thing.”

 

Bruce winces. “When’s the press conference?”

 

“You have enough time to eat and change,” Laurel assures him. “More than enough time.”

 

Bruce resists placation. “How long?”

 

“The press conference is scheduled for four o’clock,” Laurel replies. “And no, you don’t have to wear a suit.”

 

Bruce sits and accepts a mug of coffee from Natasha. “When did you guys get in?”

 

“Last night,” she replies. “We had a few things to take care of, and we didn’t want to interrupt.”

 

Bruce keeps his expression carefully blank, trying not to think about what they might have interrupted, not wanting to show his embarrassment. “Are you guys staying long?”

 

“Probably another week,” Clint replies with a shrug. “I think Fury wants us to stick around through the aftershocks.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath. “What kind of aftershocks are we talking about here?”

 

“Jarvis, show the footage,” Pepper orders.

 

“Of course, Miss Potts.”

 

The screen fills with footage of Ross in handcuffs, surrounded by military personnel, walking across the tarmac to a waiting plane, just barely visible within the frame. A woman’s voice says, “…today. Sources have confirmed that General Ross was conducting an unauthorized operation in an attempt to kidnap Dr. Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner was in Rio de Janeiro at the invitation of Brazilian President Rousseff. The Avengers were assisting the Brazilian Army to repel an alien threat.

 

“A spokesperson from the U.S. Army has confirmed that General Ross has been taken into custody, pending an investigation, and has insisted that they have no interest in Dr. Banner. I quote: ‘Dr. Banner is a national hero, and is a valued member of the Avengers. If General Ross did make an attempt to kidnap Dr. Banner, he will face consequences.’”

 

“That’s it?” Tony says, stepping all the way into the room. “No acknowledgement that they spent _years_ chasing him?”

 

“I think you’re missing the point,” Pepper replies. “The Army just stated that Bruce is a valued member of the Avengers, and they won’t come after him again. Considering it’s the Army, that’s a pretty big concession.”

 

“Not good enough,” Tony grumbles, but he gives Bruce a hard kiss. “But it could be worse. What time is the press conference?”

 

“Four,” Bruce says, and rubs sweaty palms on the legs of his chinos.

 

“Eat something,” Steve advises, putting a plate in front of him. “You’ll feel better.”

 

Bruce isn’t all that hungry, but he picks up a fork anyway. “Thanks.”

 

“So, Steve, when are you going to ask Laurel on a date?” Tony asks with a wicked grin.

 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Who’s to say I haven’t?”

 

Tony looks flummoxed, and Bruce grins broadly along with the others.

 

“He was the perfect gentleman,” Laurel confirms, but her smirk suggests that she might have gotten Steve to relax a bit.

 

“Eat your breakfast,” Tony advises Bruce. “We have that thing to build.”

 

Bruce has to admit that building a teleporter will be a good distraction, but then, Tony always provides a distraction.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Bruce says.

 

“I’ll come get you when it’s time,” Laurel replies. “Until then, try to relax.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “Right.”

 

Tony does a pretty good job distracting him, and they’re fabricating parts for what will undoubtedly be a really bad idea, but Bruce is at least entertained and not thinking about the press conference. And then Laurel pokes her head in.

 

“Bruce? It’s time,” she says.

 

Bruce swallows. “Okay. Let me get changed.”

 

Even though he doesn’t have to, he wears a suit, because he feels as though he needs the protection it affords him. Tony finishes with his tie and straightens Bruce’s. “You’re going to do great,” Tony says. “They’re going to love you.”

 

“You’re so sure about that?” Bruce asks.

 

“How can they not?” Tony replies. “I’ve been told I have great taste, you know.”

 

Bruce smiles, knowing what Tony’s getting at without actually saying it. He kisses Tony, his thumb stroking the line of Tony’s jaw.

 

“Let’s do this,” Tony murmurs.

 

Laurel, Pepper, and Steve are in the main living area waiting for them. “Clint and Natasha are watching the crowd,” Steve explains at Bruce’s questioning look.

 

Laurel smiles. “Security is very tight, so we don’t expect any problems, but it’s always better to be prepared.” She hands him a sheet of paper. “Do _not_ stray from the text, no matter how much you want to.”

 

Bruce smiles self-consciously. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “There are times when you have to go off-script, you know.”

 

“And you do that very well,” Laurel says sweetly. “But you’ve grown up in front of the press, and you know how to work a room. I doubt Bruce is comfortable with that idea.”

 

“I’m not,” Bruce says quickly, to stymie any argument. “It’s okay.”

 

“We’re going to allow a few questions,” Laurel says. “If it gets out of hand, I’ll step in, but just be honest, and be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

 

Bruce swallows hard. “Okay.”

 

She pats him on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em, slugger.”

 

Steve nods stoutly. “We’ll all be there, Bruce.”

 

Tony keeps a grip on Bruce’s hand as they take the elevator down. The press conference has been set up in the lobby, with a raised platform and podium off to the side, which will put Bruce back to the window and the street outside. There’s a huge bank of reporters with video cameras and photographers, and the flashbulbs start going off as soon as Bruce steps out of the elevator.

 

Bruce takes a deep breath and wonders who the hell thought this was a good idea—to put _him_ in front of a bunch of reporters, when he’s afraid he could go green at any moment.

 

Tony squeezes his hand reassuringly, and then Bruce leads the way to the platform. Tony steps back, taking a position just behind and to the side of Bruce.

 

Laurel quickly steps up to the podium. “Dr. Banner will read a brief statement and then will answer a few questions.”

 

When she’s stepped aside, Bruce puts the sheet of paper in front of him and pulls out his glasses, hearing a hush come over the room as he does so.

 

“Hello,” he begins, and has to clear his throat. There’s a murmur that might be laughter, but he tries to block that out. “Recently, when I was in Brazil with the Avengers at the invitation of President Rousseff, General Thaddeus Ross attempted to take me into custody for no reason other than a personal vendetta on his part. I have been assured that he acted alone, and that I won’t have to worry about someone else making another attempt. I believe the Army will keep their promise.

 

“I want to thank Tony and my team for their support through all of this,” Bruce says. “And for the support of the public.”

 

The room erupts, and Bruce grips the podium briefly and looks down before he takes his glasses off, tucking them away carefully before raising his head again.

 

Laurel steps up next to Bruce, on the opposite side of Tony, and holds up a hand. They quiet down immediately, and Bruce has to admire her poise, and her ability to control the room. “Susan,” she says.

 

“Were you hurt, Dr. Banner?” asks a woman in the front.

 

Bruce breathes a sigh of relief for the easy question. “No. Tony and the rest of the team reached me before they had a chance to harm me.”

 

“What do you say to the rumors that you married Mr. Stark for his protection?” someone shouts into the ensuing silence.

 

Bruce blinks, and in his peripheral vision, he can see Laurel step forward as though to rescue him. He stops her with a brief shake of his head, then turns to meet Tony’s eyes. Tony rolls his eyes and grins, and Bruce returns his smile and shrugs.

 

“Obviously, being married to Tony didn’t actually protect me,” Bruce points out dryly, catching the eye of the reporter who’d shouted the question. “Ross still came after me. If anything, being part of the Avengers is protection. But seriously, I’m married to my best friend, and I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

 

There’s a pleased murmur from the crowd, and Bruce catches Laurel’s grin out of the corner of his eye. She points at another reporter. “Brian?”

 

“What do you want to happen to General Ross?” the man asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Honestly, I figure that’s the Army’s business, not mine. Just as long as I don’t have to see him again, I’m happy.”

 

Laurel points at another woman. “Karen?”

 

“Anything special you’re working on, Dr. Banner?” she calls. “And how has working with Mr. Stark changed your research?”

 

“As you all know, Tony’s interested in saving the world, and in creating new forms of clean energy,” Bruce replies. “It’s a goal I’m proud to support, and we’re working on other means to clean up the environment as well.”

 

Laurel points at another reporter. “Scott—last question.”

 

“What are your plans for the future?” he asks.

 

Bruce shrugs and offers a self-deprecating smile. “Well, I imagine that tonight I’ll eat dinner with my friends and my husband, and tomorrow I’ll go back to work, just like the rest of you.”

 

“That’s all the questions,” Laurel announces, inserting herself in front of Bruce as he turns to Tony, who wraps an arm around his shoulders.

 

“You did good,” Tony whispers. “What do you say we make good on those plans?”

 

And Bruce forgets about the crowd, leaning in close and resting his forehead against Tony’s, realizing that he _can_ make plans. He can make all the plans he wants now, and he can make them with Tony.

 

“Definitely,” Bruce replies, and they kiss long and slow, ignoring the people and the flashbulbs and everything else.

 

For that moment, it’s just _them_ , and that’s as it should be.

 

**Epilogue**

 

Tony makes some minor adjustments to the computer code he’s working on and hits “compile.” He spins on his lab stool to the next project, a modification of the thrusters on the Iron Man suit.

 

He glances up when Bruce wanders into the lab, a mug of tea in hand. “Hey, just the man I wanted to see,” Tony says with a grin. “Would you mind looking at the latest project that R&D cooked up? I haven’t had a chance yet, and I’d like another set of eyes.”

 

“Sure,” Bruce agrees.

 

Tony takes a closer look at him. Bruce has a bemused expression, one Tony recognizes. “What’s up? You look like you got a piece of news you don’t know what to do with.”

 

Bruce nods slowly. “Do you know what today is?”

 

Tony has a brief flare of panic. “It’s not your birthday, is it?”

 

Bruce’s mouth tilts up in amusement. “You forgot my birthday three months ago, and I told you then that I didn’t mind.”

 

Tony winces. “Yeah, Pepper sent you a nice gift.”

 

“You bought me a new electron microscope the month before that,” Bruce points out.

 

Tony wracks his brain for the date and realizes that he’s not quite sure what it is, let alone why it might be important. “Jarvis, what’s today’s date?”

 

“June 3, 2014, sir,” Jarvis replies.

 

That’s still not ringing any bells for Tony, and Bruce appears to take pity on him. “It’s our one year anniversary,” Bruce supplies.

 

Tony blinks. “Really? It’s been a year already? Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.” He sighs. “I’m sorry I forgot.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “To be honest, I had forgotten, too, until I got a text from Steve.”

 

Tony hasn’t been paying attention to his phone, and when he picks it up, he sees he has several text messages and a voice mail, all centered on the same theme. He glances at Bruce. “Do you want to do something to celebrate? I mean, we can. We can do whatever you like. I did tell you I was bad at this, didn’t I?”

 

“Tony, it’s fine,” Bruce replies, setting his mug down, and cupping Tony’s jaw, leaning in for a kiss that seems to go on forever.

 

Bruce, Tony has discovered, has a very clever mouth, and tends to set an unhurried pace.

 

Tony slips his hands into Bruce’s back pockets to cop a feel. “Or we could stay in?” he suggests when Bruce breaks off the kiss. “Order food, eat in bed…”

 

“I knew I married a genius,” Bruce murmurs, his lips meeting Tony’s again.

 

When they both attempt to catch their breath, Tony asks, “So, any regrets, Dr. Banner?”

 

Bruce’s slow smile is warm and happy. “None at all.”

 

“You’re not going to be surprising me with divorce papers?” Tony presses, because he’s never known when to leave well enough alone.

 

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? Now, shut up and kiss me.”

 

And that’s exactly what Tony does.


End file.
